The Ghost and Mrs Muir Get Smart
by Tabitha12
Summary: By Amanda and Mary - Is Carolyn a spy? a Ghost and Mrs. Muir/Get Smart/Doctor Who, Fourth Doctor crossover story.
1. Chapter 1

_**GAMM **__**and all canonical characters: Daniel, Carolyn, Martha, Claymore, Candy and Jonathan, etcetera belong to Twentieth Century Fox, Josephine Leslie (R.A Dick) NBC and/or ABC. **_

_**Sean O'Casey in any universe belongs to Mary and Amanda.**_

_**Doctor Who**__**, Romana, K-9 and other acquaintances of theirs belong to the BBC.**_

_**Get Smart;**__** Max, 99, the Chief, Larrabee and Mrs. Larrabee are the brainchildren of Mel Brooks, Buck Henry, Arne Sultan and Chris Hayward, and belong to NBC and/or CBS. One note: The authors do not consider the short-lived **__**Get Smart**__** show produced by Fox in the 90's to be canon, therefore reader's will notice one small change in character names in this story.**_

_**The authors make no money from this work of fiction.**_

**The Ghost and Mrs. Muir Get Smart**

**By Mary and Amanda**

**May, 1970**

Peering at the book his human was holding, Daniel Gregg frowned. "Madam, why are you reading the _Sears Guide to Home Repairs?"_

Sighing, Carolyn Muir brushed back one blonde strand of hair from her eyes and stated simply, "Because, my dear Captain, I'm sick of paying the terror tax. Martha is even learning to throw pizza dough because the kids love it, but we have to add five dollars to each bill, minimum, if the boy delivers it here. More, if we make him come up to the door, rather than going down to the gate."

"Dear lady, I have endeavored-"

"I know you have," she said, holding up one hand. "Really, by now everyone should have gotten over the ghost thing about this place; you've been very calm and not run off anyone except Claymore in months. I'll admit that even before that, you only expelled people who really did need it, MOSTLY, with a few exceptions; glaring ones."

"I was simply defending my ship - and my family, if you will permit an old seadog such a fancy?"

"You are family, in my – that is - our hearts, if nothing else."

"It would be more, if only-"

"I know - if only-" Carolyn sighed. Trying to lighten the heavy sense of hopelessness it was obvious both of them were feeling, she added, "But, you did build up quite a reputation, so we have to pay for it now. Really, I don't mind being more self-sufficient."

Scowling, the Captain faded out, muttering, "But, I mind that you must," and thinking; _If only I could be a proper sort of surrogate father __and more__ to this household!_

**Washington, DC**

"Max, 99, we have a new potential threat from KAOS," the Chief intoned; his perpetually worried expression deepening as he spoke. "It appears they have a new agent abroad on domestic soil, and that she may be a technical genius, possessing weaponry and defensive mechanisms that our top scientists can't even begin to fathom."

"Well, perhaps if we contacted the Navy-" Maxwell Smart suggested after much thought, "-they could help."

"The Navy, Max?" Agent 99 frowned.

"Well, yes, 99. The Navy would know more about fathoms than we would, since we have not had many underwater missions. I do remember that one time with Siegfried and his submarine and then again when-"

"Max, the Chief doesn't mean-" the young woman interrupted, and then broke off, either realizing that it was pointless, or having remembered something, or both. "Chief, did you say SHE?"

"Yes, 99," the older man nodded.

"You do realize that we should be using the Cone of Silence, don't you?" Max cut in. "After all, this is a super top-secret mission we are discussing, isn't it?"

"Max, this is just a _potential_ threat. We have not confirmed that this woman is, in fact, a KAOS agent, just that she MIGHT be. The Cone is overkill, really," Chief argued. He truly loathed the Cone of Silence. It was too chilly inside it and he could never hear a darn thing while under it.

"Chief, protocol is protocol," Max insisted.

Partly because he was amazed that agent 86 knew a word as long as 'protocol,' and partly to shut him up, Chief sighed and called out; "Larrabee! We need the Cone of Silence!" and a moment later, it was lowered over the Chief's desk.

When the two spies had crowded in under one dome opposite him, the Chief began, "The possible KAOS operative is one Carolyn Muir of Schooner Bay, Maine."

"Huh?" Maxwell Smart grunted. "What did you say, Chief?"

"I SAID; the possible operative is Carolyn Muir, of Schooner Bay MAINE, and she-"

"You want us to take the reins?" 99 shouted back, "Of CONTROL? Are you all right, Sir?"

"What's tight?" their superior responded, a puzzled look on his face. "It IS close, in here."

"You want us to close the door?" Max asked, "You'll have to wait until we get out of here! But, Sir; what about our mission?"

"You miss what?" The Chief asked, half-rising from his chair.

"What did we miss?" Maxwell Smart was looking confused again. "You haven't told us anything yet!"

"I told you this thing wasn't working!" The Chief of CONTROL was yelling now, as he pounded on the clear side of the dome. "Get this thing away from me!" He jabbed at the button on his desk, and after a few false starts, the Cone of Silence was back on the ceiling of the room. He rolled his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "I will never understand, 86, why you insist on using that thing when it never works!"

"Aww, Chief, where's the fun of being a secret agent if you can't use hi-tech equipment?"

"I think it's low-tech," 99 smiled.

"I am not sure it is ANY TECH," Chief grumbled. "Now, as I was saying, Carolyn Muir has displayed behavior suggesting she is part of a secret organization. Either that, or she's nuts, which is another department."

"What has she done?" 99 asked.

"She has been seen talking to the air in public," her boss began to list. "Furthermore, it has been reported that visitors have been forcibly ejected from her home."

"Now, Chief, that could have a simple explanation - I've been known to throw out pushy salesmen," Max pointed out, "especially after the time that KAOS agent that posed as the Spiffy vacuum cleaner salesman."

"Yes, but I did not finish. It is an invisible force that does so, and Max, you are a member of a secret agency."

"Oh."

"How did CONTROL happen on this information, Chief?" 99 asked, "Maine isn't exactly in the in the perimeter of Washington, DC or any other area we usually keep an eye on."

Their boss shrugged, "Chain of events, really. Adams, in coding, heard about it from his contact in Seattle, who heard about it from his contact in Texas, who heard about it from his contact in Colorado, who heard about it in Tennessee, who heard about it from his cousin-in-law."

"And the cousin-in-law sees things?" Max said eagerly.

"No, Max," the Chief looked tired and glanced at the notes in front of him. "The cousin-in-law, who lives in Pripet, Maine, heard about it from his sister, who happens to also live in Schooner Bay."

"Does this person have a name?" 99 asked.

The Chief glanced at his notes again. "Yes, one Jane Shoemaker." Shuffling papers, he added, "Mrs. Shoemaker also reports that the son of the suspect, one Jonathan Muir, has been cited as being un-American and made fun of one of the Founding Fathers. He may have applied the secret weapon for things other than ejecting unwelcome guests as well; he allegedly has done some 'freaky' things during Little League tryouts."

"So, we could be talking about a midget spy, too," Max frowned. "Ingenious."

"Not only that, but-" The Chief glanced at his files again. "It seems that we have another case of weather control possible also. Its been reported by several people in the area that the house she lives in - it's on a stretch of road about two miles from town, also boasts the most peculiar weather. Rainstorms that spring up out of nowhere, mostly, sometimes only thunder and lightening, and a few months ago one - Frank Donaldson, I believe that's the right name, was trying to construct some high-tension towers on Gull Cottage property, and insists he was deliberately rained on."

"Rain isn't unusual in Maine, Chief," 99 protested.

"It is when it only rained on him. And Carolyn Muir turned a hose on him, too."

"And the hose sprayed not water, but mind-control beams? Or acid?" Max theorized.

"No, Max, just cold water, but my understanding is she created quite a stir in town. She was even arrested."

"And they let her go? Seems like an open and shut case, to me."

The Chief shook his head. "No. The tower case went to trial, and at the last minute, her landlord, Claymore Gregg, cited a hundred-year-old case and a Judge Hickox approved of the argument and threw the case out of court. I understand the towers later went up in a vacant field just outside of Skeldale, Maine." Reading further in his notes, the Chief added, "Gregg may be a person of interest; he and Mrs. Muir have been overheard to discuss "you-know-who-or-what" and speak in code. However, he is one of persons most often forcibly ejected from her home."

"Sounds like a criminal mastermind in disguise to me, Chief," Max stated. "There are lots of people who say dumb things, but are Smart," the agent stopped, realizing that what he said wasn't quite what he meant. "I mean, AREN'T Smart. I mean, aren't me – I mean-"

"We know what you mean."

"Good. So can you tell me what I said?"

99 began to explain the grammar, but the Chief interceded, "I'll have an English textbook issued to you later, Max. For right now, anyone and everyone associated with Carolyn Muir is a suspect, particularly the housekeeper, Martha Grant. Dr. Ryan McNally reported suffering hallucinations after partaking of her Lobster Newburg and she and Mrs. Muir were able to capture desperate, armed prison escapees using no weapons, while her children, Candy and Jonathan were at school."

"That sounds like a good thing, Chief," Max made a face, "Unless, of course I was the criminal; which of course I am not. I only kill people, to uphold all that is good and decent in the world."

"True, but these were Americans, and she did do it by some method that defies explanation."

"I think I know what it is, Chief," Max snapped his fingers.

"What, love?" 99 raised an eyebrow and held her breath. After six and some-odd years partnered with Maxwell Smart, she was ready for anything.

"It could be magic, Chief."

"I don't think so, Max."

"How about little green men from Mars?"

"Not likely."

"Would you believe Venus?"

"Max!"

"So, exactly what is our assignment, Chief?" 99 cut off her bosses' tirade.

"We want you to go up there and observe Gull Cottage, its occupants, and visitors for a week or two and report back to CONTROL with all you see and hear. What else you end up doing depends on what you observe."

"What if we don't observe anything?" Max asked.

"86, you are a CONTROL agent. You and 99 will see something, I'm sure, and if you don't, you'll get a nice vacation."

"Chief," 99 interjected, "We can't take the twins, can we?"

"I wouldn't recommend it, no. Can your mother take them for a while?"

"She's on vacation herself. I'm not even sure I can reach her."

"Then we'll see if Larrabee's wife can take them for that long. Larrabee!" The Chief shouted into the intercom.

The agent stuck his head in the door. "Yes, Chief?"

"Can your wife take 86 and 99's twins for a week? Maybe two?"

"I don't think Max and 99 would like that, Chief."

The Chief felt one of his headaches coming on. "Larrabee, they are right here and not only are they aware that she would be, need her to while they go on a mission. Now, can she?"

Larrabee looked thoughtful. "It depends. Would Laverne stay at your apartment?"

"I hadn't thought of that, actually," 99 answered. "Why can't the twins stay at your apartment with you?"

"Oh! You want us all to stay at our place? Sure, I guess so. I just thought you wanted my wife to watch the twins, and they're at your place."

"The kids are portable, Larrabee." Now even Max was looking impatient.

"Well, if you think they won't mind, sure."

"Great. That's settled," the Chief sighed.

"What about us, Chief?" 99 asked. "We can't just camp out on their lawn. Where can we stay and still be close enough to spy on her?"

"There's a little cottage just up the road a ways, also owned by Claymore Gregg. It was just vacated a couple of weeks ago by a Mr. Cleveland Hampton. He was the principal at Schooner Bay Grammar School, but retired rather unexpectedly, and moved to Florida, so the place is vacant. We rented the house in your name, so all you have to do is get up there and move in."

**Gull Cottage**

"Looks like someone new is moving into Mr. Hampton's place," Martha noted as she entered Gull Cottage with a load of groceries. "Nice looking young couple, except-"

"Except what?" Captain Gregg asked as he popped in, relieving her of her burden with spectral ease.

"I could have sworn I saw the man talking to his shoe," the housekeeper shook her head.

"His shoe?" Carolyn Muir blinked. "Maybe he was just taking a rock or pebble out of it?"

"No, he was holding it to his ear, like it was a seashell, or a phone," Martha shook her head.

"Just what Schooner Bay needs-" Carolyn sighed.

"-Another barmy interloper," the ghost huffed in conclusion. "Well, I'll just-"

"Don't you dare," Carolyn Muir warned the spirit immediately. "Insane or not, until they make trouble, there's no reason to run them off, Captain."

Giving her an innocent look, he shrugged, "I never said I was going to run them off, however, an ounce of prevention can be worth ten pounds of cure."

"I thought it was only a pound?"

"Inflation, dear lady."

"Inflation or no, I don't want you bothering them," Carolyn insisted. "They are probably just here for a vacation, or something, anyway. Claymore told me right after Cleveland Hampton moved out that he wanted to try temporary rentals for the summer."

"But, you don't know for sure?" The spirit asked.

"I'm about 90 percent sure," Carolyn said, thoughtfully.

"In that case, I better just pop into town and make sure about that other ten percent," the ghost answered.

"Must you?" Martha asked, "We could wait, and find out when they visit-"

"What?" Thunder rolled.

"Cool your jets, Captain, Sir," Martha answered smartly. "You've been out of circulation, too long. Asking new neighbors over to tea or for coffee is what one does."

"I suppose," the ghost huffed, "But must one do it at Gull Cottage?"

"Yes," the two women said together.

"In that case, I am going to go see Claymore," the ghost was insistent.

"Captain-" Carolyn protested.

"You said I couldn't bother our new neighbors - asking me not to bother Claymore is too much!" the seaman answered with a smirk, and disappeared.

"But - he hasn't done anything - lately!" Mrs. Muir told the air.

"Don't worry," Martha patted her employer on the back, "Claymore Gregg needs toughening up from time to time. Your ogre won't harm him; at least, not permanently."

"He's not an ogre," Carolyn protested, then realized what the other woman had said and added, "OR MINE."

"I know," Martha grinned," that he isn't - an ogre, but old habits die hard with me, and I say it with love. Even HE knows that!" As Martha headed toward the kitchen to finish putting away the cold things, Carolyn was sure she heard her mutter; _"He is SO yours."_

"I think I am going to go work for a while, Martha," Carolyn shouted to the air in general. "I need to get something done today, and my story is being stubborn!" So saying, she climbed the steep flight of stairs to the Master Cabin, but no sooner had she reached her bedroom/office and sat down at her work desk, than the ghost of Gull Cottage appeared noiselessly behind her.

"Back so soon, Captain?" she asked without turning her head. "I thought you would be a while."

"Claymore was with other people. While I do enjoy bothering him, it is less effective when he is so hampered. And your perception for knowing when I am on board is getting better by the day, my dear."

"Funny," she answered, giving him a warm smile. "And thank you. But you don't let that bother you when you appear only to me in front of others."

"When I appear to only you, I am on important business."

"Right," she laughed, "Like last fall when we had that wrestling match in the library over the vulture book? Deke Tuttle still gives me strange looks."

"Had you but kept your promise, Madam-"

"I was worried about you."

"You also wanted the PTA meeting at Gull Cottage."

"I wasn't thrilled about it - but Mrs. Post pushed, and I couldn't think of a good reason why not. And it WAS important."

"I let you have it here, didn't I? And two meetings since the first."

"Yes, and I do thank you, very much, but I still get strange looks."

"Dear Lady, you moved into a 'haunted' house. Whether I ever haunt again, in the scary sense, I doubt the attitude from the local busybodies and hens will ever completely stop. Does it still matter that much to you?" A troubled look flickered across his handsome face, and was gone.

"No, not all that much," she answered slowly, "Just sometimes. Nobody wants to be considered too odd, you know? I mean, to the folks in town I will always be "that writer lady" who "lives in the haunted house," but I'm not fond of this family being thought of as being too - different."

"I will endeavor to do better," the ghost said formally. "But I will not apologize for wanting to keep an eye out for my family."

"And that's as it should be," she declared.

"Good," he nodded. "Now, before Martha came home and told us about our new neighbors, you were saying something about your characters "not behaving" in your new story. If they are still being recalcitrant, would you care to attack a new section of my memoirs? IF the other is essential first, maybe I can help?"

The writer sighed. "I should work on my story that is due, but it isn't jelling."

"Your writing is superb. What isn't jelling? What are you supposed to be writing about?"

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "My editor wants a spy story for the October edition. I tried to tell him I know nothing about the whole spy genre; that I don't even follow the James Bond movies, but he wouldn't listen. He just said "write a good romance and throw in a mystery"."

"Romance can be a mystery," the seaman noted, pulling his ear thoughtfully.

"I think he means a REAL mystery," she blushed. "You know, X gets killed. Y or maybe Y and Z in this case find out why and who; or maybe Y investigates, and in the process runs into Z and a romance develops. The problem, is I have never been good at plotting or solving the why, how and who of the blasted stories - or solving the ones on TV either. I never guessed the killer right once on _Perry Mason."_

"Usually, it's the person you least suspect, aside from the accused, that is," the Captain opined.

"I don't want to write formula," Mrs. Muir argued.

"I read a play once," the ghost pondered, "that had a writer in it, as a character, I mean, and he said that what he did was make up a bunch of cards with a character name and an occupation, and throw them in a hat, and then made up more cards with motives, and threw them in another hat, and the means of murder in another hat. Then whenever he was stuck for an idea, he would pull one card from each hat and write a story based on what he pulled out. He maintained the rest was mere details. I'm not sure I believe that entirely, but would it be an idea for you?"

"I'm not even sure I want a murder, just a mystery," she sighed. "I mean one other than a mystery about what to write!"

"That could have potential, a writer driven to homicide in order to find a topic," the seaman's spirit quipped, wishing he could kiss the frustrated frown from her face.

"Don't tempt me."

**Up the road:**

Max looked around the cottage, at a loss about what to do with himself. Hampton's place had come essentially furnished and 99 was busy fluttering around turning it into a more homelike setting. Even though they would not be there long, making it look like they would be was part of their cover. Now, what was her name again for when they were introduced to other people? He couldn't call her "99." That would give away that they were spies, not to mention sound weird.

"What we need to do, 99," he announced finally, "is find a way into Gull Cottage. Now, my thoughts are, wait until it's dark, then we will go over there and do surveillance until we can determine at what time the family, if you can call them that, goes to bed. Then, we see if they leave anything unlocked. If not, there's always the Handy Dandy Super Secret Universal Lock Picker."

"We could just be neighborly and go over there during the day to introduce ourselves."

"Well, yes, there is that approach."

"Might be the best one," 99 said thoughtfully. "If it were a few days from now, you or I could go over and ask for directions to - somewhere, or maybe I could ask to borrow a cup of sugar or something. Remember, they might be curious about us, too. I don't think sneaking over there immediately is a good idea. We just need a good way to get IN the house, first."

"But, 99, Agents never get lost, so how could we need directions anywhere?"

"Love, they don't KNOW we are agents, remember?" she smiled. "Now let me think. We would know where town was - we had to pass through there to get here. Maybe ask them where the best places to eat are? Or see if the beach is private - can we walk there. Or whether it is safe to go swimming, or maybe we need to borrow her phone? Does our cottage have one?"

"I brought my shoe."

"No, Max - I meant if our cottage doesn't have a connected phone, we could use that as an excuse to come over and use theirs from time to time and see what's what. I mean, we would hardly pay to have one connected for a two week vacation."

"Considering what Control is paying Mr. Gregg, I would expect it to come with one installed."

"Well, we have to find it," 99 said, glancing around the room. "Oh, here it is, on the desk." She lifted the receiver gingerly. "Hello?" She pressed up and down on the phone cradle several times. "Nothing, Max."

"This is ridiculous!" Max blustered, "What if we wanted to call someone? Like the twins?"

"They are too young to answer the phone, love."

"You know who I mean. Larrabee and Mrs. Larrabee."

"It is actually better that the phone isn't connected," she answered. "Besides, you know and I know if there were a real emergency, we could use your shoe phone. No 'real' phone gives us the perfect excuse to go over to Gull Cottage, get inside."

"It's still ridiculous that he didn't hook up the phone. Unless - of course! Claymore IS an agent of KAOS and knows I have a shoe phone!"

"Could be," 99 shrugged a well-formed shoulder. "We don't know that much about him. To be honest, I was surprised he didn't come up here and show us around. He just handed us the keys and pointed us in the right direction."

"He knows that five minutes in our company would blow his cover," Max nodded.

"Maybe," 99 nodded, but from what the Chief said, I think Carolyn Muir is the one who really needs investigating. We just have to get in Gull Cottage. I don't know why they call it a cottage though, it's a big house."

"I still think we ought to sneak," Max answered, deep in thought.

"It's too soon. These small town folks are nice, I think, but they can be suspicious of strangers. We need to work out something, though. It's after three, and the Chief will be expecting our first report this evening. I think we need to go over, introduce ourselves and ask to borrow the phone."

"Hush, 99, I'm thinking," Max answered. "I know - we'll go over, introduce ourselves, and ask if we can make a call."

"To who?"

"Larrabee and Laverne; we need to check in on the twins anyway. And don't forget - we reverse the charges."

"Is it all too simple, Max?" 99 wondered out loud, "KAOS must have known we'd be here monitoring the place, so could they have arranged for us to need the Gull Cottage phone?"

"99, sometimes the best things in life ARE simple."

"Right, Max," she smiled, and reached over to give him a kiss.

XXX

The two spies were barely settled when there was a knock on the door. Regretting that he had not packed the intruder alert and visitor screener, (even though it only worked about half the time) Max grimaced and put his eye warily to the peephole. Hopefully, KAOS agents were not on the other side, waiting to blind him with the latest diabolical weapon or even an old one that had proven more reliable than the intruder alert and visitor screener.

Drawing back, he whispered loudly, "I can't be sure, but it looks like our quarry has come to us. Two women are out there, and they match the descriptions of Carolyn Muir and Martha Grant."

"That's great, Max!" 99 enthused. "We won't have to make up an excuse to meet them."

"True, but they are getting into OUR house before we get into THEIRS. That gives them the advantage, and I did want to make contact with our – our - contact, Jane Shoemaker, before we met our suspects."

99 thought, and then suggested, "Well, we do have the home-court advantage with them coming to us? You better get the door, Max. "They've seen our car; they know we are here."

"We could be out exploring, but I guess so." Crossing the room, he opened the door. Too quickly, and clunked himself on the nose.

Rubbing the offended appendage, he peered at the pair of startled women standing on the stoop. Speaking as if he had a cold, Max began; "Hello, I'm Max Smart and you must be Mrs. Muir."

"How did you know?" Carolyn blinked.

Hoping to rescue the situation, 99 rushed over, "I'm Susan, Max's wife. We just heard that our nearest neighbor was Mrs. Muir, so we figured you must be her. You are, aren't you?"

"Well, yes."

"That's small town life for you," Martha noted ruefully.

"Of course YOU could have been Mrs. Muir," Max turned to Martha, "Except you aren't wearing a wedding ring."

"Don't remind me!" the housekeeper rolled her eyes.

"Isn't it hard to forget?" Max frowned.

"No, it's just I don't like being reminded that I'm still-" Martha trailed off. "Well, we just wanted to welcome you to the area and brought you these." She held out the cookie platter.

"Right," Carolyn echoed. "Welcome. We're glad to see you."

"Won't you come in?" 99 invited, pulling her husband back into the house. "I'll fix some iced tea or lemonade to go with the cookies." She gave a slightly overly bright smile as she took the platter.

"I'll help you in the kitchen, N – er - Susan."

"Uh, no, that's okay, Max," 99 gave her husband a look. "I know you aren't really comfortable in the kitchen."

"But we were going to re-decorate it anyway!" Max protested.

"So you're moving in, not just renting for a vacation?" Carolyn blurted in her confusion. These people were, well, the only word she could come up with was strange.

"No, just visiting here for a while. N - Susan was talking about our kitchen at home. I had a little accident making cocoa one evening."

"I see," Carolyn nodded. "How long will you be here?"

"Two weeks," 99 said.

"Three weeks," Max said, simultaneously.

"I mean three," 99 blurted out, just as Max corrected his statement to "two."

"We haven't decided, either two or three," Max stated. "However long we need."

"To do what?" Martha frowned.

"To relax," 99 finished. "Stress at work, you know."

"What do you do?" she asked.

"Greeting cards. We both sell greeting cards," Max announced. With a triumphant tug, he snared the cookie plate and headed to the kitchen.

"Be right back," 99 sighed and followed him. Once alone, she whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I need to check these and see if they are just cookies or if there's poison, or truth serum, or any other mind-control substance in them. We can't just go putting anything at all in our mouth, especially from enemy agents."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I guess I could taste one."

"Max!"

"Just kidding, 99," actually I have a poison and foreign matter testing kit in my shoe."

"I thought your phone was in your shoe."

"My OTHER shoe, 99."

Reaching down, he pulled off a shoe, tried to remove the heel, and failed. Then with a frown, began to shake it. "Would you believe my other shoes?" he finally asked.

"Oh, Max!" 99 shook her head, and quickly pulled out some frozen lemonade they had bought in town, a pitcher, opened the can, and added cold water. "I should make coffee," she sighed.

"Need any help?" Martha called from the other room.

"No - no thanks!" 99 answered, "Max, what are you going to do?"

"Me? 99, we're both on this case!" He shrugged, broke off a tiny piece of cookie, and put it in his mouth. "Here goes nothing." Immediately his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he gave a long sigh.

"Max!!" 99 panicked.

"Why are you yelling, 99? They'll hear you!"

"I thought you were poisoned!"

"Not at all, but these are the BEST cookies I have ever tasted!"

"I thought MY cookies were the best you have ever tasted."

"These are the SECOND best cookies I have ever tasted," he answered, without skipping a beat. "You've never made this kind; before we arrest them, get the recipe. But if poison is a part of the recipe, you don't need to write that down."

"We don't know that they have done anything yet, Max. You really feel all right?"

"I'm FINE, 99. Well, then, get the recipe before we leave. They'd make a great bribe the next time the Chief gets mad at me."

Wryly, 99 silently concluded that she'd need to learn fast, and keep all the ingredients on hand permanently.

Just as the Smarts returned from the kitchen, now laden with glasses, plates, and a pitcher, Captain Gregg appeared in the middle of the room.

Both the women suddenly looked startled and anxious, a fact that Max took note of even as Daniel assured them, "They can neither hear nor see me unless I wish it, but I did wish to observe THEM." Casting a long look at Max, he added, "I suspect if ignorance is bliss, this fellow is the happiest man on the planet." Both women rolled their eyes, and Carolyn choked back a laugh.

"Did we miss a joke?" 99 asked.

"Uh - no," Carolyn stammered. "I was just, thinking about a story I am writing and something struck me funny. I need to change it."

"Oh, are you a writer? What is your story about?" 99 asked innocently.

"My publisher wants a romance, with a mystery thrown in, or maybe it's the other way around." Carolyn shrugged, "I was thinking about maybe doing a story about spies who work together and become romantically involved, in spite of themselves."

"Are you sure that's realistic?" Max asked. "I mean, there's rules about that - I mean-" his eyes rolled in 99's direction, "I mean, you can, certainly, but then you have to get permission to – ah - continue, get married, have twins-" He felt 99's elbow in his rib. "-I mean children-"

"I think it's a great idea," 99 burst out. "I'd love to read it."

"If it ever gets written, much less sees publication," Carolyn sighed.

"I'm sorry," the younger woman answered immediately. "We shouldn't keep you from your work."

"I like her," Daniel Gregg, who had remained silent, stated. "Though HIM I am not so sure of."

For a moment, Carolyn tried to think of a way to answer both of them, then gave up and replied, "Oh, it was going nowhere, really."

"You need to keep trying," 99 smiled. "I'd be happy to help. Just yell and I'll come over and let you bend my ear."

"That would hurt, N - Susan," Max frowned.

"I think that's just a figure of speech, usually," Martha remarked, shooting the Captain a look. He might decide to try bending the next unwanted stowaway's ear, or Claymore's, literally.

"Oh. Well then-" Max paused. "Then we would love to come and visit, and - and talk about writing. We could come tonight."

"Do you write?" Carolyn lifted a brow.

"No, but, we're great listeners, and we want to see inside your house."

99 dug her husband in the ribs again. "We drove by it, coming up here," she added hastily. "It's beautiful. Claymore Gregg's great-uncle certainly was talented."

Preening, the Captain declared, "Other than a poor choice of mates, I suspect SHE is bright. For her sex, that is." Then his face darkened and Carolyn heard thunder. "But that blasted sea-slug is not my nephew, and he certainly isn't great on any counts!"

"Captain Gregg certainly is – er - was a marvel," Carolyn tried to both answer one person and calm another in one sentence. Stop that!" she said almost inaudibly, and the thunder faded.

"Did - did you just tell the thunder to stop it? Sounds like it heard you!" Max cut in.

"Don't be ridiculous," Carolyn laughed, "Just a coincidence."

"Yes," Martha nodded. The weather up here can get a little crazy – I've thought so from the first." She smiled. "Now, I suppose we should get going-"

"-Until tonight," Max added.

"Madam, I am not sure I want them in my house," the ghost protested.

"Not sure how we can avoid it," Carolyn muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" 99 and Max said together.

"Just thinking about the story, Carolyn bluffed.

"You want to avoid your story?" 99 asked, confused.

"Not really. I guess, but if you have any ideas, be sure and let me know," Carolyn smiled.

"Right," Martha nodded.

"I'll get your cookie platter back to you tomorrow," 99 added, then frowned. "Or tonight, if Max doesn't stop eating the cookies," she added, as her husband reached for yet another one.

"Don't worry," Martha waved her words off.

"Thank you," the two agents said together as Carolyn and Martha stood and may their way to the front door.

"So, what time will you be over this evening?" Martha asked, "Clam chowder takes a little time, unless you feel like Lobster Newburg?"

"Uh, well, we hate to ask for anything complicated-" 99 began.

"Yes, we'll take the chowder," Max cut in, thinking of the reports that had said people had 'hallucinated' after eating the Lobster Newburg.

"Great," Carolyn smiled. "We'll see you about six then? My children will be home from school by then and you can meet them."

A few minutes later, the Smarts departed.

**END PART ONE**


	2. Chapter 2

**On the Beach**

Far down the beach, a wheezing sound preceded the appearance of a large, blue phone box coming out of nowhere. Moments later, an odd trio emerged; a small, tin dog, an elegant blonde, and a lanky, oddly dressed man wearing and absurdly long scarf, and a large floppy hat covering profuse curls.

"Where are we, Doctor? When are we?" the woman asked.

"Well, when we were in Brighton, you wanted to see fall colors. There's nowhere like America's New England for that, so we are in Maine."

"And this is fall color?" Romana asked skeptically. "It is a lovely beach, but I thought there would be leaves."

"Yes, well, we'll go find trees, and then you'll see colored leaves."

"Negative, Master," the tin dog piped up. "It is the wrong time of year for that. It is Spring here."

"Really? Well, everyone knows the fall designs come out in the spring, don't they?" the Doctor frowned.

"That refers to fashion, Master, not leaves. And, I am getting sand in my treads."

"Well, what do you expect on a beach?"

Suddenly, a bright smile lit the man's odd, craggy face. "I know what I expect on a beach! A hot-dog roast and s'mores. Of course, they are not nearly as useful as jelly-babies and far less portable, but, it IS customary."

"Aren't hot-dogs rather-?" Romana groped for the right word.

"Yes, that's the beauty of them. I know I have a package in the refrigerator," he went on, stepping back inside to emerge minutes later bearing a string of sausages, some buns, long metal sticks, graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows. "Everything one needs for a beach picnic except ants," the Doctor announced triumphantly. "K-9, be a good fellow and start a fire. Your low intensity laser should do the trick."

Obediently, the tin dog focused on a spot in the sand with a small pile of driftwood and aimed a beam of light. In less than a second, a cheerful blaze awaited the hot dogs.

Little did either Time Lord know that they were being observed.

XXX

Siegfried lowered his binoculars. "Ach, I knew that we were being fed a load of knockwurst when our triple agents said that Maxwell Smart was being sent here to spy on a widow with a dog and two children," he informed Starker in disgust. "You just can't trust anyone these days. It is obvious that all of that was a coded message and the real target is THIS young lady who does have a dog and - well, I'm not sure what he is, but they must be the ones Smart is spying on, not some widowed mama. Ha! I vas not born yesterday, you know. This girl has developed a laser weapon cunningly disguised as a puppy and mastered technology ve had heard England was developing, but unfortunately, our agent inside vanished."

"What technology, Herr Comrade?" the other KAOS operative, asked warily.

"The science of making the inside of something bigger than the outside," He jabbed a finger toward the phone box in explanation. "Ve had been informed that the Torchwood agency was looking for a man who had done so, but he vas proving elusive. Before we could discover more, our mole had vanished. There is a rumor that he was shot within twenty four hours of being hired by Torchwood and his body is still there, in cold storage."

The other man gulped, "Surely that's not true."

"I do not know, but if any agent angers High Command, he might find himself having to infiltrate Torchwood. But, that's neither here nor there. Well, it is there, but here we have more pressing matters; namely nabbing the girl and her dog before Smart does."

"What about the man with the curly hair, Siegfried?"

The senior spy frowned. "Obviously, he's her assistant, and a rather incompetent one at that."

"If they are so important, why are they just sitting on the beach eating bratwurst and melting chocolate on crackers?" Starker asked warily.

With a withering look, Siegfried replied, "They are testing the laser strength. Of COURSE they are not just eating bratwurst for the sake of eating sausage, numbskull! It is a mere cover in case someone half as clever as us is watching. Or perhaps the frankfurters are some new form of super-food that KAOS needs to know about. Yes, that could vell be it. They have discovered a form of meat that really is much more than meat. The chocolate must be also. They can kill a whole flock of birds with one picnic."

"I LIKE bratwurst," Starker sighed, "And chocolate. That's a terrible thing to do with such goodies."

"They probably made them taste good too. Westerners are decadent and would not invent food that was yucky. But if they are super-foods, it does not matter. They might be on the edge of curing world hunger, and KAOS does not want that, do we?"

"Why don't we?" Starker scratched his head. "It could mean more recruits for KAOS."

"Quality, not quantity is the thing, Starker. If any cure for world hunger is to exist, VE want to be the ones controlling it, not CONTROL. Got that? They would just try to benefit mankind. We would use it efficiently and only cure the places that will further our efforts."

The other man nodded slowly. "So what do we do now, Siegfried?"

"We keep Smart avay from the girl until WE can nab her and her little dog, too."

Starker scratched his head. "Vhere have I heard that line before?" His answer was a slap with Siegfried's cap. "I know, I know!" Starker maintained, "It's from that old American film _The Wizard of Oz! _You sound like the Wicked Witch! _'I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!"_ I LOVE that movie-_'Ding, Dong, the vitch is dead, vhich old vitch, the vicked vitch-" _He was cut off by a well placed kick from Siegfried.

"Starker! This is KAOS! We don't sing here!"

"But why?"

"Because, dumbkauf, we are the BAD guys, remember?"

"Does that mean we cannot have fun?"

"Starker, we have fun BEING bad! Now, no more questions!"

"Just one, please? If we sing badly, can we sing?"

Siegfried looked thoughtful. "Only at the KAOS talent show."

Thinking about the last one, Starker turned pale. "Never mind! What are your orders, Mein Leader?"

"I will stay here and watch the girl. You go watch Smart."

"And Mrs. 99?"

"If she is with him, yes."

"Where else could she be?"

"JUST DO IT."

"Yavol, Siegfried!" Starker threw the other man a salute.

As the lesser agent scurried off to obey, Siegfried closed his eyes for half a second. Peace at last.

XXX

An hour or so after the Gull Cottage trio had returned home, there was a knock at the door. Captain Gregg had been recounting a story for his in-progress memoirs, but broke off to vanish abruptly, but only for a second. As he reappeared, he scowled, "It's that woman, Mrs. Smart."

"I haven't had time to make the chowder yet!" Martha exclaimed, "Much less the rest of the meal!"

"While I do believe in punctuality, such earliness is as rude as being terribly late," Daniel agreed. "However, her nincompoop of a mate is not with her, so perhaps she is not arriving for the dinner." He brightened, "Perhaps she is coming to say they cannot attend."

"Captain," Carolyn chided.

"One is allowed hope, my dear."

Shaking her head, Carolyn went to the door and opened it to see 'Susan' Smart standing there, smiling brightly.

"Hi, I hope you don't mind, but our phone is not connected and I really need to call and check on my twins; this is Max and my second honeymoon, but I still worry. The children are just babies, you see, and-"

"Say no more. You are free to use our phone," Carolyn assured her, stepping aside to allow her entry.

"Thanks so much. I will pay for the long distance, of course," 99 added as she followed Carolyn to the telephone in the foyer.

Mrs. Muir shrugged. That was welcome, though she did not feel comfortable saying so. She studiously did not listen, but moved to the living room as her visitor chattered to an unnamed woman about Baby Barbara and Baby Donald.

When the conversation ended, 99 joined her. "Thank you SO much for this. I try not to worry, but it's tough. This is just our first time alone in months." She colored slightly. "Anyway, I will probably be back, a few times. Going two weeks or more without talking to my little ones - I just can't imagine it."

"No problem," Carolyn nodded as she let the woman out.

"We will see you tonight, I just didn't want to bog down the dinner party with domestic stuff," 99 added. "We'll pick up some white wine before we come. Is there a liquor store in town?"

"The general store has a small selection. I usually have to go to Keystone if we need it though," Carolyn explained, not adding that given the Captain's extensive wine cellar, that was not often, just when the guest did not rate the premium stuff. Very few did, but they were not overwhelmed with social events, either.

As the door closed again, she called, "Thanks for being so pacific, Captain." Silence answered her. "Well, I guess it's easy to be quiet if you are not here."

XXX

Across town, Claymore Gregg was anything but that as his 'great uncle' appeared demanding, "Hook up a phone at the pill-popper's cottage immediately!"

"Why?" the landlord asked. "He moved out. It'll cost a fortune."

"Why? Because your new tenants trampling over to use the phone at Gull Cottage whenever they wish will cost me my patience, therefore, your wallet can be drawn upon. Add it to their bill."

"I don't want to. The charges won't come until after they have already left. How do I know they will pay for it? They've already met you - I mean, Mrs. Muir. Why can't she send them the bill?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the ghost bit out, "Because I do not want them in and out of Gull Cottage to use our blasted phone!"

"You didn't mind it when Cleveland Hampton did!"

"He did get a phone. He did not plan on it becoming habitual!" The ghost rubbed his beard. "At least I don't think he was - although it did seem like he was using it as a good excuse to visit Carol - ah, Mrs. Muir."

"If you mean Carolyn, say so!" Claymore huffed. "She's my client; I have to call her Mrs. Muir. You live with her, I don't."

Stiffly, the ghost said, "It would not be proper."

"Oh, come on! This is the 1970's! If you are going to haunt in this century, you need to adapt, uncle. It's not that big a deal! I'd call her Carolyn all the time if I didn't think you would haunt me into next week. You did notice she isn't wearing her wedding ring any more? I'd take that as a sign she doesn't think _Mrs._ Muir is necessary - at least not from her nearest and _dearest."_

"I had not noticed," Daniel Gregg answered stiffly, inwardly blasting himself. _How could he not have observed such a notable fact?_

"Gee, for being a ghost, you aren't very quick. I noticed it back in March - right after her parents were here."

"You WOULD notice something as valuable as a gold ring not being on her hand. However, I pay more attention to her quick wit, her grace, her charming nature, her expression. Ornamentation and jewelry is far less of a concern to me."

"Uh, huh! Sure! Then why was it so blasted important for me to give her those pearls?" Claymore said, daringly, and for a moment he held his breath. _Had he gone too far? _Finally the ghost spoke again.

"Because it was, and you are trying to distract me from the issue. You need to get that phone installed!"

"Okay," Claymore sighed. "It's just a trunk line, anyway - into town, and Millie, our operator. No direct dial! At least I can write it off on my taxes this year. Now will you leave me alone?"

"If you do this, yes, FOR NOW."

"How long is that, pray tell?"

"Why? What kind of scheme are you concocting now?"

"Nothing! I just want to know how long I can count on peace and quiet."

"As long as my world and that of the Muirs remains untroubled, you will be also at peace."

"Oh. Uh, all right. Will you go now?"

"You aren't going to attempt to be a gracious host? How disappointing. I had planned on having a nice - chat." Claymore was so easy to bait.

"No. I have things to do - important things. Besides, you invited yourself." the other man answered grumpily.

As the ghost vanished, Claymore heard his resonant voice reminding him, "Turnabout is fair play, Claymore."

"I'm the landlord, so I don't need an invitation, from myself or anyone else!" he fumed.

XXX

Romana had to admit that these sausage things the Doctor had insisted on cooking were not quite as repulsive as she had imagined, even if the Doctor had burned them. Perhaps if they were not so crispy, they'd even be good. Obviously, there was a good reason his name was not The Cook. She had little doubt her first life would have scorned the entire exercise, but the new her was somewhat more adventurous, a bit mellower. However-

"Doctor, is this all there is to a beach picnic; sitting here, exposing our skin to harmful rays, eating odd food, and – sweating?"

"K-9 isn't sweating," the Doctor pointed out. Admittedly, he had taken off his own greatcoat.

"I have no sweat glands, Master," the tin dog piped up. "But, the sand is uncomfortable to my sensors."

Confronted by the two dissenting view; why did Romana and K-9 always gang up on him? The Doctor cleared his throat, "Well, I suppose we could head to town and do a bit of sightseeing after you finish your frank."

"It was charred, Doctor. I think two bites are about all I can take."

"Oh, very well, let's see if we can find a decent cup of tea in America," he grumbled. "After Daleks and the Key to Time, not to mention our Paris adventure, I would think a bit of burned meat would be a small matter."

"If I was truly hungry, it would be. Tea sounds lovely."

"Well, come along then," the Doctor announced, rising. "We'll just clear up this mess and head to town. Where is town, by the way?"

"Two miles north," the robot replied.

"Hmm, well, the walk will do us good and give us an appetite," he shrugged. "But you might want your parasol, Romana. Pity I do not have Bessie any longer."

"I'm not against walking," Romana answered. "What about K-9?"

"What about him?"

"It's a safe bet no one in this time period has seen a dog quite like him."

"Very few people in any time have," the Time Lord sniffed. "I don't want him to be left out. It wouldn't be fair. How often has K-9 gotten to see an American city?"

"Two? Three?" Romana answered, "Well, if you say it is all right, I'm not going to be the one to argue with you. It's just that this is 1970, not 2070. I think I would be prepared for a bit more than the usual attention people can give to people visiting a small town."

Sighing profoundly, the Doctor shrugged. "Very well. K-9, go back inside the TARDIS and stand watch. Do you want a doggy bag?"

"People bag, Master."

The Doctor's mobile visage shifted into a scowl. "K-9, the proper term is doggy bag, even though normally, humans eat the contents themselves, and only claim to be taking their chicken leg home to the dog. And since when do you eat? Of course, if you can catch a cold, I suppose you can eat."

"It's the thought that counts, Master."

"Hmph. Well, it's only the polite thing to do. Can't have you feeling left out; besides, I have never ordered a doggy bag. New experiences are hard to come by after six-hundred and-"

"Seven-hundred, you mean," Romana corrected in a "we've been over this before" tone.

"Nonsense. I'm not that old."

"If you say so."

"I say so, and I should know, it's my age."

"Hmm. Take care of things, K-9."

The little automaton paused in his trundling pace to chirp, "Of course, Mistress."

"All right now-" Romana glanced around, "-Which way to town?"

"North."

"Lead on, McDuff."

"It's _Lay on,_ McDuff," he corrected. "Of course, I told Will that was a bad line to put in. He'd spend the next five-thousand years or more being misquoted, but he never listened. Once he got it in his head, well, you heard how he butchered my brilliant suggestions on _Hamlet."_

"Let's go, Doctor."

"Right, no I think the north is - left."

"Fine. Let's get going. Tea is sounding better every minute."

XXX

"Candy, what's that man doing?" Jonathan Muir asked his big sister as the two walked down the beach toward home.

The girl looked in the direction indicated to see a tall, blonde man an a short leather jacket walking up and down in front of a phone booth, periodically tugging on the door and calling, "Here, doggy, doggy. Come on out. I have a nice treat for you. I have steak and brats - Or how about a nice chicken leg?" Stomping his feet, he yelled, "Oh, come on out, you mutt!"

"I think he lost his dog in there," Candy concluded.

"Then, why doesn't he just open the door and get it to come out, especially if he has steak? Scruffy would come out for Claymore even, if he had a T-Bone."

Candy shrugged. "Well, I don't see any steak, so I think he's lying. Maybe his dog knows that? But, why can't he open the door? It doesn't look THAT sturdy."

"Beats me," her brother scowled. "Where'd it come from, anyway? There's never been a phone booth on the beach, and there's no lines going into it."

"Maybe the Captain chopped down the lines," Candy mused. "Bet he doesn't like phone lines any better than power ones."

"Maybe," Jonathan answered, "Maybe less. I think he likes 'lectricity, but he hates the phone, mostly."

"Yeah."

"But, Candy," Jonathan went on, "We've walked this way trillions of times! I've never seen a phone booth here, and 'specially not one like that-" the two stopped a distance from the booth and the oddly dressed man. "-The ones in Schooner Bay aren't blue - they're kinda silver, or gray, and the windows go all the way down to the ground. That is, except the really neat one inside the library that is wood, and has a place to sit down." He paused, and then spoke again. "Think we ought to go help him?"

"Mom wouldn't want us talking to strangers - 'specially someone dressed like that," Candy said, in a big-sister voice.

"Stupid hound!" the man bellowed, following it with something in a foreign language that obviously the children didn't understand. "Dumbkauf!" With a snort, the man kicked the door and stomped off down the beach, not seeing either Candy or Jonathan.

"Think we should go see if we can get the dog out?" Jonathan asked.

"He may be scared and scared dogs bite," Candy pointed out.

"He wouldn't if we rescued him," Jonathan said stubbornly. "Besides, whoever owned him shouldn't have locked him in a phone booth."

"I hope we don't have to break in to get him," Candy remarked. "Do you think Claymore would have a key? I bet the Town Council would have had to authorize a phone booth, and besides, he does kind of own the beach, so his permission would be needed."

"We won't break in," Jonathan vowed. "Maybe the door is just stuck, or it has an electronic eye something, like on _Star Trek_. Dogs aren't afraid of kids anyway. But if there is a dog in there we need to go see. Otherwise he'll be lonely and may starve, or DIE of thirst before his owners get back!"

"If they are the ones who locked him in, they don't deserve a dog," Candy intoned darkly.

"Right; and Scruffy would LOVE a pal. Moby-Sheila had to go back to New York."

Cocking her head to the right, then left, Candy added, "And, I bet the dog is a LOT smaller than Shirley-Sheila because she'd never be able to get into that little space and, if she got stuck, EVERYONE would know, clear all the way to town, I bet."

"She'd have come out for food, too," Jonathan nodded. "I just had to say "sandwich" and she was right there."

"And remember how hungry Algae the seal was when we found him?" Candy went on, "He was starving. Jonathan, we have to get that dog, or whatever it is, out of jail."

"Right," the little boy nodded, "I have my pocket knife. "Maybe if there is a lock I can pick it."

"Did the Captain teach you how?"

"No, but it looks easy in the movies and those reruns of _The Man From Uncle_ and _I Spy_ shows Martha and Mom watch."

Candy just shook her head and thought about the clock her brother had 'fixed,' but stayed quiet.

"Well, that guy who was talking weird is gone," Jonathan said, as they neared the blue box. He put his ear to the door. "I don't hear any barking."

"Maybe he's being quiet, hoping the weirdo will leave."

"He DID leave. It's just us and we aren't weird."

"Maybe there is a window or keyhole or something we can look through-" Candy knelt down in the soft sand in front of the door and tried to peek through the small opening there. "It looks like there is a keyhole, Jonathan, but more like the one that my skate key fit in Claymore's cursed clock."

"You don't have it, do you?"

"No reason to. We don't skate at school."

"Thought maybe it might be on your key chain with the house key Mom gave us for emergencies."

"Nuh-uh," Candy shook her head. "Wish I did! Try your pocket knife."

"I'm not sure I should, after all. I don't want to break it."

"Maybe we can get the dog, or whatever it is to come to the door."

"What good would that do?"

"Maybe the dog knows if there is a doggy-door we can't see."

"Who ever heard of a doggy-door in a phone booth?"

Who ever heard of anyone locking a dog in a phone booth anyway, especially an old-fashioned one like this?" Candy sniffed. "Come on - before that strange man comes back."

"Maybe we should get Captain Gregg," Jonathan frowned. "He could just pop inside."

"We're half a mile from home. By the time we get there and back again, the man could come back. We need to get in now," Candy insisted. "Here, doggy, here boy, here puppy!" she shouted through the tiny keyhole. "Come're boy! We won't hurt you! Can you get out? C'mon boy-"

"Open, Sesame!" Jonathan added, helpfully, kneeling in the sand beside his sister, and rattling the door gently, "Come on, boy! Come to the door! Scruffy will be your friend! Us, too!"

"Dogs can't open doors," Candy pointed out.

"If there is a doggy door-" Jonathan protested. "You said so."

"Oh yeah; I thought you were talking about people doors."

No sooner had Candy uttered the words than the doors on the phone booth suddenly began to open.

**Gull Cottage**

"This is a ship, not Grand Central Station," Captain Gregg fumed as he turned from his telescope to glare in Mrs. Muir's direction.

"Who, now?" she asked. "It's not my fault, you know. I only invited the Smarts, who would be several hours early if they are to whom you refer, to be nice. It's what is done."

"You explained that, my dear, and I do not blame you, I was merely expressing distaste for the general situation. Now, Norrie Coolidge is about to-"

A distinct knock was heard all the way upstairs a second before the ghost could finish his sentence.

"Wonder what he wants?" Carolyn rose and headed downstairs, trailed by her ghost. As she stepped made her way down the last of the stairs, she heard Norrie saying, "I wouldn't ask, Martha, but as constable, it's my duty to go on patrol, and since Ed's my deputy, he has to, too. I just can't shut down the restaurant for however long this takes, people have got to eat, you know. And, if I asked Claymore, he'd take his pay out in free meals; more than I'd have given him for doing me the favor, that is." Shaking his head, the older man added, "Bet he'd want to be paid, too. And Deke may know antiques, but he doesn't know a thing about running a restaurant."

"I can cook, but I don't know how to handle the business end, and I am not sure I can cook for that many people! Besides, I'm needed here," Martha protested. "We're having a dinner party tonight."

"My nephew's on the way over from Keystone," Norrie pleaded. "He'll be here well before tonight's rush; he's studying to be a chef, so he can handle things once he gets here, in maybe two hours, at most; Less, probably. You could even use my kitchen to make whatever you need for your dinner tonight, but there's got to be someone keeping an eye on things and have the place open."

"What's the problem?" Carolyn asked.

With a sigh, Norrie explained, "FBI sent word that there's some desperate criminals here, international types. And, as the law, I am supposed to be alert and try to apprehend them."

"Don't tell me Duke, Frankie and Biff broke out of jail again!" Carolyn exclaimed, almost laughing at the memory of her hours as a hostage. True, it hadn't been funny at the time, but in retrospect, they had been so ridiculous!

"Oh, no. I bet they never come back, even if they do get out. No - a fellow name of Siegfried and his partner, Starker, were sighted heading this way. Apparently, they are international spies and really dangerous. Best stay close to home and not let any strangers come inside, Miz Muir."

"I'll keep that in mind," she nodded.

"Might be best to just not let anyone in at all."

"We have company tonight," Carolyn reminded him. "Come six o'clock, we have to open the door."

"Kids aren't home yet either," Martha pointed out. "They're a little late. Wonder what happened to them?"

**The Beach**

Even though the two children lived with a ghost and were used to surprising occurrences, they both jumped when the door began to open. Their fear turned to fascination as the 'dog,' K-9 peeked out.

"This unit perceives that you are not a threat."

"Look, Candy-" Jonathan pointed, "-A toy dog!"

Annoyance entered the dog's tone. "Unit is not a toy. I am K-9 Mark II."

"You - you answered me!" Jonathan stuttered.

"Your name is MARK?" Candy spoke, a bit flustered.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. He'd thought his sister was over that drip, and told her so.

"No, Jonathan - it said its name was Mark."

"Correction, Doctor Master calls me K-9. Mark II is my series number, designating me as the second, improved version, of my kind. I am not an IT."

"I - what are you?" Jonathan answered, "You look, well, a LITTLE like a dog, but-"

"He IS a dog!" Candy clapped her hands, "A robot dog! Don't you get it, Jonathan? K-9! Canine! That means dog!"

"I was made to resemble an organic being known as a canine, or a dog, but I am much more than a dog," the flat voice managed to convey indignation subtly.

"Oh yeah?" Jonathan asked, "Like what? Open doors? Why were you hiding inside this old phone booth?"

"This is the TARDIS; Doctor Master's ship and home. It is not a phone booth."  
"Looks like one," Candy maintained. "I remember now - I saw one like it in a book once. How could you and your Master fit in here? Reaching up, over K-9, she began to pull the doors open wider.

**Smarts' residence**

"WELL?" Max demanded as his wife entered the cottage.

"Donald and Barbara are fine," she smiled.

Annoyed, but knowing he shouldn't be, Max suppressed, with supreme effort, a sigh. "That's wonderful, 99, really, but we are talking world-saving issues here. What did you learn about the Muir woman?"

She shrugged as she put down her purse. "It seems like your ordinary, average home; I did not see ANYTHING unusual, sinister, or even whacky. I don't think she works for KAOS."

"That reminds me, while you were gone, the Chief called on my shoe. Siegfried has been sighted in the area, so something is definitely up with them."

"But, Carolyn Muir might not be involved, Max."

"It's too much of a coincidence," he insisted. "Now, tell me every little detail. You never know what might be important. Why one time I solved a case just by following up on a suspect suddenly changing the brand of detergent they used."

"How was that important?"

"_Oxy-Miracle_ was guaranteed to take out bloodstains, but _Fresh and Clean_ didn't, so when the suspect's housemaid suddenly changed, I knew something had to be up, and sure enough, I found that there was."

"He was a killer?"

"No, just a really bad spy who got beaten up a lot," Max frowned. "We might have done the other side a favor in locking him up."

"You can't win them all, sweetie."

"Was there anything at all noteworthy or even memo-worthy in the house?"

"Well," 99 mused, "There were a lot of valuable antiques, but from what we know of Mrs. Muir's budget, she surely can't afford them."

"Invests her ill-gotten gains in old stuff; that's one of the – er - oldest tricks in the book, you know."

"I think they belong to Claymore Gregg by inheritance. One of them was this simply - marvelous painting of a sea captain," the female agent went on, her face lighting up a bit. "Captain Daniel Gregg. I could not help but notice it, and the fact that Mrs. Muir and Martha both kept glancing at it."

"Aha! The old "hide something behind the valuable portrait trick," Max nodded smugly. "I bet there's a treasure or secret plans concealed in it, or there is a button behind it that it triggers a hidden room."

"You really think a painting is important?" 99 sounded dubious.

"Absolutely. We have to get our hands on that picture, immediately or sooner. Ah – 99-" he paused. That guy in the portrait - he wasn't better looking than ME, was he?"

"Well," she hesitated. "I love you, Max," she said softly, putting her arms around his neck.

"But - I love you, too, but was he?"

"He was extremely good-looking," 99 admitted. "But it was a portrait. The real Captain Daniel Elias Alexander Gregg lived a hundred years ago."

"So he isn't alive?"

"Of course not. Claymore Gregg, his great nephew, owns the house now. Remember?"

"Ah, yes. And we're supposed to check him out, too, right?"

"Yes, but I thought the Chief was going to do some digging on his end?"

"Is he planting a garden?"

"No, Max! I mean investigating!"

"Oh." He paused. "I don't know. I think so. What time are we due at Gull Cottage tonight? We need to really check out that house."

"In a couple of hours."

"We don't want to waste any valuable time. What-say we go into town and check out Claymore Gregg?"

"I really need to get ready. Maybe you can handle him on your own?" 99 trusted the Chief, but she was fairly sure he was way off-base with the Muirs. She had never seen anyone less like a spy than Carolyn Muir.

"Get ready for what?" Max scratched his head. "You aren't cooking."

Sighing, 99 explained, "Women need longer to do that. We have to fix our hair – no, it's not broken, nails, make up, etc."

"99, you look lovely just the way you are. You don't need all that-" He waved his hand in front of him, "-stuff."

A look of pure joy spread over her face. 99 knew her husband was generally dense and often bordered on being kind of a goof, but sometimes, once in a while, he got it all just perfect and even said the exact right thing. It didn't happen a lot, but the rarity made those instances even more special.

"You know, I don't think Mr. Gregg is anything to worry about," she whispered. "Our cover story is we are on our second honeymoon. "I can think of another way to stay busy for a while."

Frowning, he kept his record consistent at one-in-a-row on right remarks, "Really? What? Do you have a cipher to decode?"

"Oh, Max-" She leaned closer and gave him a long, lingering kiss.

"Oh!" Max answered with a grin.

**END PART TWO**


	3. Chapter 3

**Gull Cottage**

"There is something off about that couple," Daniel insisted as he paced the living room. "I can't put my finger on it, yet, but I know something is. Granted, the woman seems sensible."

"We established that earlier, and I couldn't help but notice she took more than one look at your portrait," Carolyn remarked with a slight smile, "Seems to be the typical female reaction upon seeing it."

"Naturally," he winked. "However, ghosts have a certain sixth-sense about people, and we always know when someone is up to no good. Need I remind you about Paul Wilkie? I had his number, as the vernacular of today puts it, right off. Then, there was that tourist trapper. I knew he was trouble."

"You did until he started flattering you."

"A momentary lapse, from which I recovered admirably,' the spirit corrected. "I was never almost Princess Rain in the Face."

"That's true, no one would ever call you princess," Martha contributed.

"I am quite glad of that."

Despite themselves, they all laughed, and then Carolyn addressed the pink elephant in the middle of the room. "I'm getting worried about the kids. Normally, I'd figure they'd just stopped to play or something, but with this international criminal on the loose-"

"They aren't home yet, are they?" the Captain queried. "I can go look for them, my dear, but perhaps one of you should come with me. I can home in on them, but could do nothing if one of them is hurt, or threatened, since I can't touch them."

"I still don't quite understand that," Carolyn frowned. "You can pick up Scruffy- and throw Claymore out of the house when you aren't visible."

"I'm a seaman, not a physicist."

"Now you sound like Doctor McCoy on _Star Trek_," Martha chortled. "I'm about ready to leave for town - Anything else I should bring back, Mrs. Muir? I promise I will be home with a full kettle of chowder and some sort of side dish a bit before six." Her laugh turned to a frown. "I don't like leaving when we don't know where the kids are."

"I don't like you leaving when there are pirates on the prowl," the ghost fumed. "Norrie should have at least had that bumbling swain of yours provide a police escort, such as it might be."

Martha smiled. "Actually he is picking me up. I was going to take the car, but he insisted. Good thing, too, actually. You'll have the car, which is a blessing, just in case."

"I think we ought to go look for them," Carolyn sighed. "Or I should. Someone needs to be here if they come home, and you can't drive."

"I would rather go with you," Daniel said. "But I understand."

**Back on the Beach**

Candy Muir reached up, over K-9's head and began to pull the doors open wider. "Here now, K-9, what's going on here?" an annoyed British voice demanded a second before the girl could get a look at the interior. "Are you inviting people over for a wild party? While the Doctor's away, the dog will play?" Quickly, he shut the doors to the strange booth again.

"You might let him get a word in edgewise, Doctor," Romana admonished, then, tossing her hair over her shoulder, she turned to the children. "Who are you and why are you trespassing in our home?"

"Romana, that is not how you speak to children," the Doctor chided in return. "You are children, correct, not just very short adults?"

"We are, but we aren't LITTLE kids," Candy replied, lifting her chin. "And we were just watching out for your - dog," she gulped. "Some strange man was trying to get him to come outside your phone booth."

"Yeah," Jonathan went on. "This guy was bribing him with bratwurst. K-9 doesn't like it, I guess, but I do."

"They are speaking the truth, Master," the dog spoke up.

The Time Lord frowned deeply. "I don't think we have any." He patted his pockets, and then pulled out something in a brown bag. Candy sure hoped it wasn't sausage.

"Jelly-baby?" the man asked with a bright smile, holding out a handful of odd looking candy.

The children eyed the sweets with mistrust.

"We aren't supposed to take candy from strangers," Candy took charge, "But thanks, it looks good."

"Hmm, quite right, I suppose." Hating to waste the candy, he popped a handful in his mouth.

"Maybe we could have a little," Jonathan said as he watched the strange man chew. "We've taken lollipops from Mister Hampton and Leander Whipple."

"We know them."

"He's eating the candy, Candy," Jonathan answered reasonably. "I'm Jonathan Muir," he went on, "And this is my sister, Candy, and we were worried about your dog. Some weirdo was trying to get him to come out of your phone booth, and we didn't want anything to happen to him, like when Claymore wanted Algae as a tourist attraction."

"Yeah and K-9 didn't want to come out of his doghouse, so we were going to go in," Candy added.

"I wasn't going to allow that, Master!" the dog interjected, a slight annoyance in his voice.

"Now we know you, though!" Jonathan added, "What's a jelly-baby?"

Instead of answering, the Doctor half turned to indignantly state to his companion, "SEE, Romana? I TOLD you the colonies were barbaric."

"You were praising them until we entered that - diner."

"Until then, I had no idea that after all the trouble they went to - fighting a war to get decent tea, that they'd go and ruin it with ICE of all things. Now, they do not give their children the best candy in the galaxy. It's disgraceful."

"Huh?" Candy and Jonathan said together.

"I don't like tea," Jonathan said bluntly, "But I like hot chocolate," he added, "And cherry pop and candy and cookies and cakes."

"Of course you don't, you've never had a proper cup, K-9; do we have hot chocolate or cherry pop?"

"Negative. We do have chocolate milk."

"I could heat it, I suppose - Hmm."

"It's too warm outside for that," Candy wrinkled her nose. "And hot milk has that skin stuff on it."

"How revolting," Romana commented.

"Maybe we'd better stick to cold chocolate milk and jelly-babies, eh?"

"We really ought to get home, or at least call Mom," Candy pointed out.

"And you mother is-?"

"Mrs. Muir," Jonathan said.

"Carolyn Muir," Candy added. "She's a writer."

"And one day she is gonna be famous," Jonathan added.

Candy swatted her brother on the arm. "She's famous already - in Schooner Bay."

"Yeah, but I mean really famous, not just for living in the spooky house."

"Spooky house?" Romana lifted one brow.

"Now, that sounds interesting," the Doctor grinned widely, revealing more teeth than the kids had ever seen in anyone's mouth.

"Our house is NOT spooky, it's wonderful," Candy protested. "I love everything about it. I have from the first. It's called Gull Cottage and Captain Gregg-" She paused abruptly and took a breath. "-Captain Gregg built it himself, a hundred years ago."

"Better and better, Will we meet him?"

"Uh," Candy hedged, "He died a long time ago."

"Pity. Oh, well. Perhaps we'll go back in time and meet him later, eh, Romana?"

"More than likely, Doctor, if you don't overshoot his era."

"You're gonna do what?" the kids asked together.

"Take a small trip back in time to meet the chap," the strange man shrugged. "Quite simple, really."

"Are you teasing us?" Candy asked suspiciously. "You better not."

Obviously taking exception to her words, the Doctor drew himself up regally, "I do not tease children, caged animals, or people holding weapons. Granted, anyone else is fair game. However, this IS a time and space traveling machine, so what's the good of it if you don't take the occasional hop to another era?"

"Say, maybe that's why the Captain was nice to me on our first day," Jonathan blurted out. "Because he remembered when I visited him back in time?"

"But you haven't, and neither have I because then why didn't he remember me and meet me, too?" Candy retorted, and then stopped short, flushing. "Oops."

Realizing what he'd started, Jonathan turned pale. "I mean; maybe that's why I invented an imaginary friend right off the bat, even though I'm too old for that."

"Yeah, me too," Candy nodded.

"Is your Captain from another planet, then, where there's a long-lived race?" Romana asked. "In comparison to your own brief lives, is my basis of comparison for a long life-span. I'm over two hundred and the Doctor is-"

"Slightly older and wiser," he growled. "That must be what they mean; the only other alternative is that the Captain is a ghost, which is impossible. Or perhaps he is imaginary, in which case, we cannot meet him. Imaginary people have an alarming aversion to being met, so you don't ever know if they do or do not exist because as soon as you try to meet one, they vanish."

"Imaginary indicates a lack of reality," K-9 pointed out.

"Yes, but how many people would believe in you, dear fellow?"

"Insufficient data to arrive at a number, Master."

"That's what you always say when confronted by problems like this. Tell me more about this Captain of yours, children," The Doctor went on.

"Uh, well, we made him up because of the sea atmosphere fueling our imagination," Candy nodded vigorously.

"Yeah," Jonathan agreed.

"Oh, come now-" the Doctor smiled. "You sound like you have swallowed a psych textbook."

"Really," Candy insisted, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Can we see the inside of your phone booth now?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know. Your imaginations are so very susceptible to being unduly influenced."

"No, they aren't!" Candy protested, "We can be as un-successable as anyone, and we can keep secrets, too. Big ones."

"Yeah, lots," Jonathan added.

"Do tell."

"Well, Ca-" Jonathan started, but Candy elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

"Shhh! He's trying to trick us. That'll show you!" She glared at the Time Lord and put her hands on her hips.

Despite herself, Romana giggled, hastily putting one hand over her lips.

"Well, I suppose we could let you have a peek," the Doctor smiled. "After all, you did befriend K-9."

"But just a peek, no trips," Romana warned.

"Now, don't be a spoil-sport," the Doctor chided her.

"Doctor, your control over your ship is not always the best - a five-minute trip might have them missing from home for five weeks or five years."

"It is sometimes a challenge to hit the right day. One day is so small, you know, like trying to land on the head of a specific pin. Centuries are much easier."

"You want to take us somewhere?" Candy's eyes grew wide. "Mom probably wouldn't like that. I just wanted to look around."

"Romana is right. We can't risk missing your proper day or year on the return trip. But, looking around should be all right."

"Cool," both kids nodded.

Without a word, the Doctor flung open the door.

"Great wall-eyed pikes!" Candy whispered, stepping inside, "It's big!"

"It's dimensionally transcendental," their host stated proudly.

"Huh?"

"It is bigger on the inside than the outside."

"Martha says my pockets are like that," Jonathan managed to say. "What's all the- stuff? Computers?"

"And various parts that make it go."

"I wish we could drive it," Candy sighed, dropping her wind-breaker and books on a chair. "It would be fun."

"Unfortunately, I do not have the years it would take to teach you."

"If you travel in time, you have lots of it," the little girl argued.

"Yeah," Jonathan agreed.

"However, you do not."

"But-" Candy protested, "You could take us anywhere, and then bring us back to the same time that we left, maybe a little earlier, even. That way we could have all the time in the world!"

'You would still age."

"So-" Candy's brows furrowed. "If we traveled with you for a year, and then you brought us back to when we left, exactly, we would be a year older?"

"Yes."

"Mom'd hate that," Jonathan put in.

"Yes. And we would not want that, now would we?"

"No," They shook their heads. "And Martha and the Cap- I mean, Claymore Gregg wouldn't like it either," Candy added.

"Yeah, he'd blame Claymore," Jonathan added without thinking.

"He who?" the Doctor pounced.

"Claymore," Candy gave him an innocent look. "Our landlord."

"Claymore would blame himself?" Romana inquired.

"I mean, SHE," Candy stammered. "Mom and Martha would blame Claymore. Sure - that's what I meant - I think."

"Children, Romana and I are Time Lords from a planet in another galaxy that travel through time in what appears to be a police public call box with a robotic dog. I've seen Big Foot, as you call him, dinosaurs, assorted aliens, met the people who make history, and made some myself. And, that's just the tip of the iceberg." He frowned. "Let's not discuss icebergs though. I'm still traumatized from my experience on the Titanic. It is safe to say that whoever you are hiding is someone we can believe in without thinking you nuts."

The two children looked at each other.

"Should we?" Candy whispered.

"If he travels around in time, he won't stick around to cause trouble like Mr. Wilkie, or Madame Tibaldi," Jonathan shrugged.

"I solve trouble, I don't cause it."

"You don't look like a troublemaker," Candy said thoughtfully.

"I can give you the names of a few people that think otherwise," Romana chortled. "But they aren't very nice."

"What are you gonna do if we tell you?" Jonathan asked. "You really can't tell anyone what we tell you."

"Who would I tell?"

"Friends? Relatives?" The boy shrugged.

"The newspapers," Candy put in. "You can't - Mom likes her privacy."

"And the Captain does, too," Jonathan added. "He'd be really mad - and you really don't want to see him get angry, he - oops," the boy clapped a hand over his mouth again.

Dryly, the Doctor informed them, "I'm considered the black sheep of my family, my nearest relative that speaks to me lives six-hundred years in your future, and my grand-daughter Susan is at least your equal in secret keeping. Romana, K-9, you won't tell, will you?"

"Simply order me not to, Master," the robot dog replied.

"Don't you dare order me, but I am trustworthy," Romana stated.

"You see; all secrets are safe."

"We live with a ghost," Jonathan said slowly. "The best ghost in the world - Captain Gregg. We have for almost two years."

"Even if I only knew about him for one," Candy added, testily.

"You kept saying I was making him up, Candy. You ever meet any ghosts, Doctor?" Jonathan asked.

"Hmm. Well, I can't speak for my future self, but not that I know of in the past, unless I will meet one in a prior era to this one, but in my future." He shook his head. "Grammar tenses are quite inadequate for situations involving time-travel."

"I don't get you, Sir," the boy answered.

"Few people do," Romana noted in a tone that might have been a joke, but then again, might not.

XXX

The little group was unaware that Siegfried had accidentally dropped the Ultra Mini Super Spy Camera that KAOS had stolen from MI–X (the extra secret British Intelligence agency that was so secret the members didn't even know if they were actually in it or not, or so it was said. In fact, there was debate about if they actually did exist or were just a cover for something even more secret). This was one gizmo that did, in fact, work just as it said on the tin, and had been recording the children's conversations with first the dog, and then the two Time Lords. It even captured when the TARDIS faded out after Candy and Jonathan wheedled the Doctor into just a short trip after K-9 reminded him about something called the fast-return switch that would instantly bring the ship back to minutes after it had left, as long as they only made one straight trip. There would be no going to multiple places in time and space, lest they get lost.

The spy stomped back just in time to miss seeing this phenomena; he only saw the children come bouncing out of the ship followed by the aliens.

"That was so cool!" Candy enthused.

"Yeah, better than baseball, even," her brother added.

"You were decent companions, I'll have to admit," the Doctor winked, a twinkle in his eyes. "Weren't they, Romana?"

"Indeed. I'd say that if you two were older, we'd have to invite you along, on a less temporary basis."

"WOW!"

"But, I suspect you have homework to get to and your mother might be concerned," the Doctor went on and then glanced at his watch. "Oh, good, I DID get you back at the right time."

"I'd say less than ten minutes," Romana nodded.

"We were gone exactly seven minutes, twenty-eight and 8/17's seconds," K-9 put in for good measure.

"I was aiming for one minute flat," the Time Lord sulked.

"Do you want to come home and meet Mom and Martha?" Candy asked politely. "I _think_ we're supposed to have chowder tonight, maybe, and Martha makes the best, even better than Yankee Skipper brand."

"You mean Admiral-" Jonathan began.

"It wasn't as good after they changed the label," Candy avowed.

"Yeah, you're right."

"We'll see," the Doctor promised. "Why don't you go warn them that three extra places might be needed?"

"Three?"

"We can't leave K-9."

"Master, I still do not eat."

"It's still rude to not include you, old chap."

"He's right, we'd better get home and let Martha know, and we're a little late. I don't want Mom to worry," Candy sighed. "Hope we see you later," she grinned.

"Me, too," Jonathan nodded.

"Charming, for Earth children," Romana mused once they were out of sight.

XXX

Siegfried looked on in confusion, then checked his camera and saw that the little dog had come out for the children. So, they must be in on it. He had seen their photos in the files on that widow, maybe CONTROL knew what they were doing for once? Perhaps Smart was being smart to watch her, if her children were able to participate in something so advanced. He did not know which idea was the most appalling; that CONTROL might get ahead of KAOS on nabbing this technology or that Maxwell Smart might be RIGHT. It was a very close call.

Where the devil was Starker? They needed to get to Gull Cottage and check things out more thoroughly.

**Gull Cottage**

Carolyn glanced at her watch, and then at Daniel Gregg. "I'm giving the kids ten more minutes before I go look for them. What a day, of all days for them to be late!"

"I imagine they just got derailed," Martha answered, zooming through the room with a feather duster.

"Children WILL be children," the ghost defended them. "We have discussed this before." Just then, the adults heard the front door fly open and the sound of voices in the foyer.

"Sorry to be late, Mom," Candy said as she entered the room, even as her brother echoed her breathless tone. "We uh - got distracted on the way home."

"How many frogs are in your pockets?" Martha asked grimly.

"None," Jonathan vowed. "We just-"

"It'll have to wait. We have company coming and Martha needs to mind Norrie's for a while. You didn't see any odd people around, did you?" Carolyn asked.

"Well-" Candy began hesitantly.

"Your mother means, no one odder than the norm for Schooner Bay," Daniel quipped. "But, obviously, you did not run into the felons Norrie is worried about, since you made it home safely."

"Oh, no, I don't think we saw any crooks," Candy agreed. She wasn't sure about the strange guy who'd been so adamant about getting K-9, but he'd been more silly than dangerous, she thought.

"So we have company, you said?" Jonathan asked, looking at the feather duster in Martha's hand. Normally the housekeeper's schedule put dusting once a week on Saturday mornings.

"Yes," Carolyn nodded, "Mr. and Mrs. Smart. Martha is making clam chowder while she minds the store."

The children looked at each other. _No chance of inviting The Doctor and Romana if company was coming!_

"Anyway, I need you two to get upstairs and take your baths early, and no dawdling," Carolyn continued. "There won't be time later. What's your homework situation?"

"Not much," Candy shrugged. I have a little to read."

"Nuthin," Jonathan smirked. "We had a substitute today."

"Think you could get yours it out of the way before dinner, Candy?" Carolyn asked, turning to Jonathan as Candy nodded. "And if you take the first bath, while Candy is doing her homework, then you can set the table in the dining room."

"That's a girl's job!" the boy protested.

"No, it's not," his mother replied in a no-nonsense tone.

"Martha and you and Candy usually do it-"

"Until NOW, lad," The Captain interjected.

"I'm not sure I know how to do it," the boy stalled.

"Then you will learn in about a half-hour," the Captain answered, "with me."

"YOU? Doin' female work?"

"It is NOT "female work," as you put it!" the Captain looked affronted, "But something every well brought-up person should know." He smiled, "There will come a day you will be glad you know this, boy."

Scrunching his face up as he tried to decipher that, the boy gave up and asked, "How come?"

"Because it impresses the heck out of women of all ages," Martha winked, and Carolyn nodded.

"Thank you, Captain."

With a slight bow, he replied, "You are quite welcome."

"And on that note, I think I will get my coat and go," Martha added. "One way or another I will get back here by six, Mrs. Muir."

"And I'll go take my bath," Jonathan shrugged, and started toward the stairs.

"I'll get my reading done fast as I can," Candy added, joining her brother.

"Not so fast that you don't know what you read," Carolyn admonished.

"Right, Mom," she nodded, and in a moment, they were out of sight.

XXX

"I'll be home as soon as I can," Martha said a few minutes later. "Are you sure you can manage all the preparations, Mrs. Muir?" she went on, with a frown.

"I think I can take care of the little stuff," Carolyn smiled. "I'll even get a salad ready. Not even _**I**_ can hurt lettuce and tomatoes." She turned to the ghost. "I can have Jonathan vacuum the floor in the front room."

"Him, not the Captain," Martha advised, "not that I mean to butt in."

Carolyn looked puzzled. "What do you mean, Martha?"

"I don't want to tell you how to raise the kids. You know - when the Captain filled in for the kids last year that one time? Before I knew he was here."

Carolyn laughed. "That was sort of a one-time deal, Martha. And the day you don't offer your wisdom is the day I will worry."

"And I COULD be persuaded to use the sweeper, if necessary." The Captain's rich chuckle filled the room.

XXX

"Now, 99, do we have our signals all straight?" Max quizzed as she helped him adjust his tie carefully so as not to dislodge the tie-tack that was actually a mini-micro-recorder, guaranteed to detect any and all speech within a fifty-yard area, providing no walls got in the way and it was clearly stated, even if it was a whisper of as little as one decibel, theoretically. 99's earrings would do the same thing, so they needed to not sit too close together, and hopefully double their effectiveness. Or, at least if one recorder failed, like that time in Bora-Bora, one of them would work.

"Yes, Max. We will ask them as many leading questions as possible, and when we have enough information, or as much as we can possibly get in one evening without being too obvious, you will yawn and start talking about jet lag getting to you." Holding out a necklace, she went on, "Please fasten my jewel lens camera pendant? My nails get in the way of the clasp."

"99, you really should keep them trimmed shorter."

"I had them shaped so that they are superior lock picks."

"Oh. Now, don't forget, we also need to scope out the security measures that might be in place. We have to get back and steal that portrait or at see what's hidden behind it."

"Yes, Max, but I think their total security system is named Scruffy."

"A very ingenious acronym, I'm sure," Max nodded, "Security Canine For Repelling Uninvited Felonious - er - Yahoos."

"There's two F's," 99 said.

"Yes, the second one was transposed to the start of my sentence so that enemy agents can't immediately figure out what Scruffy actually stands for."

"Oh, of course, I should have seen that."

"Yes, you should have."

"Now, if we get the opportunity, you need to spike the dessert with sleepy-time drops," Max instructed. "That way, they will sleep through our secret sneak mission to explore their stash of hidden data."

"What if they are able to convince you that they are not enemy agents, but ordinary people?"

"We'll apologize for knocking them out, but without breaking cover."

"Haw would we do that? Maybe we can just peek behind the portrait when they are out of the room? See if anything like a safe is there. I just don't think Carolyn Muir and Martha Grant will take kindly to being knocked out - especially if we knock out her kids, too. I mean, how would you like it if someone tried that on Barbara and Donald in a few years?"

"Well, naturally, not much, but if they are enemies of the country, then it's good that they don't like it. We aren't supposed to make KAOS agents happy."

"I really don't think an eight and ten-year-old are enemies, Max, and my question still stands. Siegfried thinks we are the enemy - you wouldn't like it if he did that to our children."

"No, but - 99, you aren't going soft, are you?"

"No, just being practical, and a MOTHER."

"Maybe the two kids will go to a sleepover," Max suggested desperately.

"Maybe; but really, Max. This is our first night here, and they invited us to dinner. I think even the Chief would say not to rush things. Maybe we can just eat, visit, observe what we can, snoop where we are able, and see what we can find, but no knocking anyone out."

"Save it to this weekend, eh? Right, 99," Max nodded wisely. He peered at his watch, but deciphering all its multiple readouts had him confused in two seconds flat. It showed the time in three time zones, the weather report, and a daily wise saying. Of course, the print was too fine on most of it to be read, and which of the zones was his again?

"Is it too early to go on over?" he finally asked.

99 looked at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. "I think we'll be okay."

"Good. I'm starved." He sighed. "But I'll miss your cooking, sweetheart. You normally cook Beef Wellington on Fridays - when we are home, that is."

"I promise to make it the first night we are home, even if it is Monday."

"That would be great, 99!" He kissed her enthusiastically. "We really need to clear this case fast."

"You haven't tasted Martha's chowder yet," 99 teased. "Carolyn Muir says it is awfully good."

"Can't be as good as yours; your Beef Wellington, that is. I'm sure it's fine as chowder, but chowder is not meat."

"Not the last time I checked, no," 99 smiled. "Just let me put on some lipstick, and we'll go."

"Make sure it's the universal drug-shielder lipstick with protection against coming off unless you use the lip scrubber. You never know what might be in the chowder."

"Max-" 99 rolled her eyes. "I really don't think that Mrs. Muir is inviting us to dinner to poison us, but okay." Quickly she applied the special lipstick. "Now come on - we better hurry, or we will be late!"

END PART THREE


	4. Chapter 4

**Gull Cottage**

Captain Daniel Gregg paced the area beneath the mantle where his portrait hung, puffed away at his pipe and watched Carolyn arrange some flowers in a vase. Finally he spoke. "Blast it, my dear, are you sure it is wise, inviting those two strangers over here for dinner? You barely know them."

Carolyn stopped what she was doing and turned toward her favorite ghost. "I hardly think they are anything resembling a threat, Captain."

"There is something off about them, I maintain."

"Well, I think Susan is great. I can't see what you are worried about. And her husband, well, he-"

"Makes Claymore appear to be a genius."

"Oh, come on," she giggled, "Neither of them are that bad! Besides, they are due here any minute. Even if I was worried, which I am not, I can't very well holler up the road and say: 'don't come, my - that is, Daniel Gregg doesn't trust you'."

"But, dear lady; that is a most excellent reason."

"I still can't say it." She turned to her flowers for a moment and then back toward the mariner. "Of course, if you are worried, really worried, why don't you join us for dinner? I know you can drink – and smoke cigars - and you did eat the cake we made for your "Death Day" last November when we thought it was your birthday. I bet you could manage chowder."

"And how would you explain my appearance?"

"You - could be my date for the evening," she blushed. "I do get tired of being the third wheel at social occasions."

"My dear - Carolyn-" he hesitated, saying her name for the first time since her parents had renewed their vows, "I don't mean the reason I am at dinner, I meant - looking like me." He glanced at his portrait.

"You changed your face when Ryan McNally was here; he didn't think 'Danny' looked a bit like you, you said." She blushed at the ghost's use of her first name.

"The man was an over-educated dolt," the ghost huffed.

"Well, you said Mr. Smart seems to be an idiot, which is about the same as a dolt, so, he probably wouldn't notice either," Carolyn shrugged.

Stroking his beard, the ghost nodded slowly. "Other than marrying the jellyfish-brained buffoon, though, it does appear Mrs. Smart lives up to her surname, at least more so than he."

"Well, even if she does detect some resemblance, how many people are going to think 'ghost' immediately? Most humans think they are myths or delusions."

The couple shared a long look as they recalled why the "over-educated dolt" had been visiting.

"This is true," Daniel admitted.

"So - I didn't get to see your face beardless," she coaxed. "Please?

With a self-conscious tug on his ear, Daniel Gregg morphed into the face he used to fool Ryan McNally. His hair was two shades lighter, and he was wearing a dark suit.

"I never have been able to resist anything you asked of me for long," he said, which made her blush again.

"You look very handsome," she stuttered. "But your face looks positively naked - Very not-you, but it is a nice look. I've often wondered-"

"What, my dear?"

"When you were alive – did you ever shave when you were in port? You know - then let your beard grow when you were at sea."

"I did that for a few years," Daniel admitted. "My Aunt Violet was still alive then, and somehow, it just seemed wrong for "her boy" to greet her with whiskers. I never bothered after she died. Besides, it was usually wintertime when I was grounded in Schooner Bay, or where ever, so I wanted the insulation! Aunt Violet died the year I got my mate's ticket," he added, and paused for a moment.

"I don't know HOW the kids and Martha will react to an almost-but-not-quite-you face," she smiled, trying to lighten the moment.

"How about this one?" he asked, and moment later a man with a completely different set of features entirely was standing in front of her in the same suit of clothes.

"This one is not as good as your own face, but still, breathtaking," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Sean O'Casey's face: my best friend growing up, my shipmate, and later my First Mate," Daniel smiled, and glanced at himself in the small mirror on the wall near the fireplace.

"It would appear that men in Schooner Bay were MUCH better looking a century ago."

"Thank you. I miss Sean," the seaman sighed.

"He isn't a ghost?" Carolyn asked timidly.

"Not everyone becomes a ghost, my dear. However in Sean's case, I don't know."

"Why?"

A hint of amusement played on his lips. "Dear lady, while I have seen many people send out birth announcements, I have yet to see anyone send out notices saying something on the order of, _'it is with great pleasure I announce my transition from being alive to being dead. I am now haunting my former home or other place. Please send presents,' _which is what most announcements are code for in the human realm, I believe; not requests for your presence, just presents."

"Cynic."

"Perhaps, but that does not preclude me being correct."

"Of course not; I just thought - I don't know, it would be interesting to meet some friends from your time, or your relatives, like your Aunt Violet. Elroy Applegate can't be the only person – ghost - friend from your era still hanging around. Maybe your friend still is somewhere on this side of the veil."

"Maybe, but this is not the time to worry about that. Now then, this face may meet with your approval, my dear, but I making an appearance tonight may not be possible, as much as you would like it to be. We are forgetting one thing; I can't touch anyone when I am manifested, only when I am invisible, and I have never tried to do so for an overly-long period of time."

"Maybe," she began after thinking, "You could claim to have a cold? And you don't want to infect anyone, so you don't want to touch them?"

"But not a cold so bad that it would prohibit me from coming at all?" he went on. "That could work. I could also time my 'arrival' here to not have a lot of room for pre-dinner conversation? I like it. I think I could do that." He gave her another long look. "It's really too bad, my dear. I remember Claymore asking me when your parents visited in March why I didn't just show up as a modern day version of me. I never thought about claiming a cold!"

"I wish it could have been possible; I think you would have impressed my father much more than Claymore did! What did you tell him?" Carolyn asked curiously.

"That it was impossible, because I couldn't shake hands with your father, or embrace your mother as a prospective son-in-law should be able to."

"I don't think Claymore hugged Mom," Carolyn answered.

"No, but he has no finesse. I would have, were I there and able."

"The thought counts."

"Thank you, dear lady."

There was silence for a moment, and then Martha bustled into the room.

"The kids are through with their baths and homework. Mr. and Mrs. Smart should be here in about fifteen-" She stopped short. "I didn't hear the doorbell! Mrs. Muir, who-?"

"I'm just a humble seaman, looking for a bite of chowder, Ma'am."

"What? Who-?" she stuttered.

"Martha, it's me," he said kindly. "Captain Gregg."

"But - you don't LOOK like you, or sound like you; unless you've been hiding a brogue all these months."

Daniel shook his head and replied in his own voice; "Just an alteration of my features, dear lady. I will probably speak as myself tonight, however; after all, no one is alive that can identify how Daniel Gregg spoke once upon a time. However, given that Mrs. Smart was so taken with my portrait, and even if she were not, the resemblance would be noticed, I felt it prudent to don a disguise."

Looking him up and down, Martha commented, "And under this disguise, I'm Gene Tierney."

"You really must try to hide such things more effectively, my good woman," the ghost quipped.

"No need for blarney to go with the Irish mask," Martha snorted.

"I am partly Irish," the seaman pointed out. "Just a small amount though, and I DO NOT blarney." It seemed that Carolyn could hear him mutter beneath his 'breath,' "Unlike some people who wear poor imitations of my visage."

"Sean Callahan does not have a patch on you, in any way," Carolyn whispered.

"I know that, but-"

"But," she whispered back.

"I'm going to go check the chowder," Martha cut in, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You know, tonight isn't the way I would like it to be at all," the Captain went on, when the housekeeper had left the room, "Not a bit of it."

"Oh?" Carolyn looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat. "Wh - how would you have it?"

"Carolyn, if I was mortal, and of this time, it would NOT be my best friend, Sean's O'Casey's face you would be seeing, but my own."

"My heart sees you now."

"Thank you, good lady," The Captain sighed. "However I feel like tonight comes one-hundred years too late. You - and Candy, Jonathan, Martha and Scruffy are all truly the only family I have ever desired or will ever want, and I can only be a shadow of what all of you deserve, and there are times-" He smacked his fist into the palm of his other hand. "My dear Carolyn, you deserve so much more - a true suitor, and I-"

"You are all I want," she finally could admit.

"My dear," The familiar words caressed her ears in a new way, "As I started to say, you and yours deserve more than a hundred and forty-five year old seaman. You know I wasn't boasting about diamonds and emeralds and palaces the night of your parent's re-affirmation of their vows. Were I alive, they would be yours, and more. I swear it."

"I don't need them; you being here would be enough."

"And if that was true, I would be the happiest man - sprit in existence."

"It is."

"Then, I am," he said, even more softly, and leaned toward her, their lips almost touching-

_If he dematerializes, can he kiss me? _Carolyn wondered, _as he did Madame Tibaldi's cheek that one time? Oh, please, let it be so! Just once!_

"The chowder is done to the point of too done," Martha said, bustling back into the room.

BLAST.

"Uhm - Yes, Martha?" Carolyn answered finally, as Daniel tugged on his ear.

"Mrs. Muir? Did I interrupt something?"

Before she could reply, there was a knock on the door.

"They are early," Daniel frowned, and moved away from Carolyn slightly. "Too punctual is most annoying."

"Indeed," Carolyn nodded.

"Not as much as being tardy is," Martha insisted.

"You've got that right, Martha!" Carolyn laughed. "My roommate in college was the kind that people would tell her the party started at two, just so she would arrive at three-thirty and be on time with everyone else."

"Surely she grew wise to the trick?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, but then she started seeing a guy who was a stickler for being on time."

"Sounds like the definition of a disaster in the offing."

"Nope, they both learned to compromise. He started being a little late and she started being more punctual. They've been married ten years now. Of course, the wedding ceremony was a half-hour late getting started."

"Let me guess, they started their honeymoon early?" Martha grinned as the doorbell rang again. "I need to get that," she added.

"And I need to officially 'arrive,' Daniel said. "I'll be back here in about fifteen minutes. I'll pop upstairs for a minute first and let Candy and Jonathan know what is going on. I don't like fibbing, or setting a bad example, but the safety of my family comes first." He leaned over and whispered into Carolyn's ear. "I never want a repeat of what happened when those three thugs landed here." The velvet whisper of the seaman sent goose-bumps up Carolyn's back; the good kind.

"So you can't have dessert for two weeks," she managed to say. "I won't either. I'm fibbing too."

"You almost never eat dessert anyway, my dear," he answered, and then vanished.

"You'll eat it tonight," Martha scolded, heading for the foyer, "It's Blueberry Slump!" She opened the door. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Smart!"

"Good evening," 'Susan' beamed as she poked Max to prompt him to do likewise.

"Ah, well, yes," Max added. "Good evening, Martha. We brought this-" He held out a gift wrapped bottle of wine. "I hope it goes with - whatever we are having tonight."

"Chowder, Max," 99 whispered.

"I'm sure it will," the housekeeper answered. "May I take your coats?"

Maxwell Smart shook his head. "Ah, no; I'm sure we will need them when we walk home. Besides, I don't think they will fit you."

"I'll just hang them up then," Martha said dryly.

"That's all?" Max gave her a suspicious look.

"I could press and wash them," she shrugged.

"That won't be necessary," 99 gave the woman a charming smile, as she took the coats anyway, and a moment later, they were in the parlor.

"The kids should be right down," Carolyn greeted them. "Welcome!"

"Ah, yes," Max eyed the room, "Candace and Jonathan."

Carolyn frowned. "I don't remember telling you their names."

"Well, er, someone must have told us," Max looked flustered.

"Yes, that's right," 99 nodded. "Someone in town mentioned you when - when we first got here."

"Who?" Martha queried suspiciously. Maybe the ogre was right.

"Don't know," Max shrugged.

"What did they look like?" Carolyn asked.

"Oh, they were about medium - medium height, medium weight, hair, voice-"

"Male or female?" Martha put in.

"Oh, they were medium – uh - that way, too."

"That's a new one."

"I really don't remember," Max said, and started walking about the room, dragging 99 with him. "Nice place you have here - lots of antiques."

"We were very fortunate," Carolyn asserted.

"How so?" 99 asked.

"Just the right time, right place. Claymore Gregg was anxious to rent Gull Cottage, and my family and I wanted a new start after my husband died."

"I'd think this place would be easy to get takers for."

Carolyn shrugged and glanced toward Daniel Gregg's portrait on the wall.

"I wouldn't know about that really, but we - everything worked out fine for us."

Just then, Candy and Jonathan came running into the room.

"Hi, Mom!" they chorused. "Has Ca - your date gotten here yet?"

"Captain 'O'Casey ought to be here soon," Carolyn blushed.

"You have a date coming?" 99 asked. There had been no information in the CONTROL files about Carolyn Muir seeing anyone.

Hesitating for only a half-second, Carolyn nodded. "Yes."

"Well, that's nice!" 99 recovered herself. "Isn't that nice, Max?"

"Right. Nice," Max answered, and moved toward the Captain's portrait. "Who's this guy?"

"Captain Daniel Gregg, the original architect and owner of Gull Cottage." Carolyn's small blush deepened a little.

"Striking man," 99 stepped closer, "Really magnificent."

"That was my first impression as well."

"It is a very interesting piece of art," Max nodded, trying to sound cool and sophisticated. "Have you ever considered moving it to another location? I mean, does it HAVE to be right there, over the mantle?"

"Why would we want to move it?" Carolyn asked. "It was there when we arrived and it fits there." Even as she was trying to decipher this strange man's comment in her head; it seemed to be a very unusual question, thunder rumbled.

"I think the Captain will be here very soon," Martha muttered.

"Oh dear, it sounds like rain and we didn't bring an umbrella!" 99 exclaimed.

"We do have our-" Max began, then realized he was on the verge of revealing a secret spy gadget to outsiders, "That is, I don't think a little rain will hurt us, unless it's acid rain or some sort of secret weapon that actually rains some sort of poison but looks like ordinary water."

"I'll get the kids to come on in; you and Jonathan can talk comic books," Martha noted.

"Oh, I never read them," Max assured her, "except for Charlie Brown and Snoopy."

A knock prevented Martha from making an appropriately dry comment.

"Surely that's Captain G - O'Casey," Carolyn blurted out. "Would you let him in, Martha?"

"Of course," the older woman nodded.

A few moments later, the occupants of the living room heard Daniel Gregg's familiar voice in the hall. "Good evening, Martha! You are looking lovely, as usual!"

"Oh, go on!" There was a moment's pause, and then she added; "I mean it! Go on!"

"It would require hours to recount your charms."

"Ahh!" the housekeeper blushed in spite of herself. "I just love a bonny Irishman with a good line of blarney! And how are you feeling this evening?" she added, giving the words a little punch, just as they reached the living room doorway.

"How can I be other than fine when I am surrounded by beauty?"

"Thank you," Daniel," Carolyn smiled, "But didn't you tell me only two days ago you have been suffering from a bad cold? Thank you so much for making it out of your sick bed just for me."

"I would do far more," he answered hoarsely, looking deeply into her eyes, and for a moment, the world stopped.

"Good evening, Mister O'Casey!" the children sing-songed, and then giggled.

"Good evening, my dears!" he answered, and gave Carolyn another glance. "The doctor says I am recovering nicely, but just to be safe, I suppose I shouldn't hug any of you hello, as much as I would like to. No sense taking the chance on passing any germs along. But of course, I just had to come tonight. Three days without being near you all was four days too many!" He turned to look at the Smarts. "And, who have we here?"

"I'm Maxwell Smart," the agent spoke up. "And this is my wife - Mrs. Maxwell Smart."

"Susan," 99 supplied.

"How delightful," the seaman beamed. "Of course, I have no desire to infect either of you, so forgive the lack of a proper greeting."

"Oh, that's quite all right," 99 said. "Colds can happen to anyone."

"I don't get them very often," Max looked miffed.

"Nor do I, but one did overtake me now."

"I haven't had a cold in ten years," Max stated. "Would you believe it? Ten years."

"I find that a bit hard to believe."

"Would you believe eight years?"

"I don't think so," Carolyn shook her head.

"How about five?"

"No, Sir," Candy and Jonathan said together.

"Would you believe last month?" Max asked.

"That's true," 99 winked at the other two women.

"Seems like it's been a century since my last instance of such, but right now I would rather have Martha's chowder than try to one-up you."

"It smells delicious," Max said truthfully.

"Martha made it, so it must be," Daniel stated.

"Ah, yes - So you know Martha's cooking well, then?" Max asked, "Are you from around here?"

"Martha's cooking is famous around these parts, and yes, though I am often at sea."

"Yes, as long as there are fish there should be seamen," Max nodded. "I'd miss fish sticks and Long John Silver's."

"Indeed, what a tragedy to contemplate," Daniel remarked dryly. "There is a bit more to it than catching fish, but right now, I suggest we take our places before the chowder chills."

After the Captain offered a brief blessing, the meal began.

"Is anything wrong with your soup?" Martha asked Max, noticing that he was being very cautious about taking a bite.

"Er, no," he stammered, not sure what a plausible excuse to not eat, or not eat much would be. He had noticed that this Captain O'Casey that had just shown up out of the blue was being very ginger in HIS eating, too so it made Max wonder if there was actually some kind of drug in the chowder. There was definitely something to be concerned about in the salad; the newcomer had not touched his. True, the Muirs were eating normally and with no ill-effects, but he figured they had immunity or at least had taken an antidote of some kind ahead of time. Naturally, even if O'Casey was their partner in dirty-deed-doing, he had not had the opportunity to take it. Ergo, he was eating just enough to not make Max and 99 suspicious, or so he thought; but not so much as to be overly affected. Of course, no one had counted on his superior skills at catching onto this sort of thing. Now, if he could just remember the signal to tell 99 to quit eating, life would be great.

"I could get you something else, grilled cheese or a heartier salad?" Martha offered. "I thought you liked chowder?" She was sure he had been the one to pick the menu. This was just what she needed, another vegetarian. The dentist's mama had made her decide that a meatless diet made one think strangely, for the most part. She had met one or two of them that seemed normal enough.

"Oh, I'm sure this is fine," Max smiled gamely. "Would you believe that I forgot its Friday? I never eat fish on Friday."

"It's Friday that Catholics are supposed to eat fish on, I thought," Candy frowned. "Danny Shoemaker's older sister, Tiffany, makes a big deal out of wishing she could have a roast beef sandwich, but can't because she'd have to confess to it and then say a whole bunch of prayers or do some kind of penance."

"We're the opposite of Catholic, so we can't have fish," Max announced smugly.

"Protestants don't have such customs," Daniel noted dryly.

"Our sect does," Max gritted out. "It's a new one."

"Must be," Daniel frowned, and gazed into his soup bowl. "I, for one, think it's delicious," he added, taking a bigger spoonful. Nothing had happened so far, and it WAS delicious. _Could I have been missing something all these years? _he wondered to himself, _After all, I can manage brandy, champagne, cigars, and birthday cake with no embarrassment!_

"I don't know when I have tasted better," 99 agreed. "Any chance I can talk you out of the recipe, Martha? We could exchange; Max loves my Beef Wellington."

"If it's a good recipe, we'll get free repair work here for life! Mr. Peavey has said he loves that."

"You've got a deal. I've made it so many times I've got it memorized. My standard sides are artichoke hearts and baby potatoes."

"I'll throw in my cherry pie," Martha offered.

"Great!" 99 beamed. "I don't have a good one. My mother was a good cook, but not a good baker, if that makes sense."

"Perfect sense," Martha assured her.

"Martha just happens to be great at both," Carolyn put in, "Unlike me. I'm an unskilled amateur. Fried hot dogs are a challenge."

"But I don't write at all well; not even letters." Martha protested.

"Well, Mom, hot dogs are best burned on a stick on the beach," Jonathan suggested. "So, can we have a picnic and do that soon?"

"Do they have to be burned?"

"That's the proper way to do it," Candy backed up her brother. At least, that's what the Doctor had told them when Miss Romana had insisted on serving tea and toast because she was still hungry after the hot dogs had been charred and the tea in town awful.

"That's how I used to eat them," Max smiled. "Before 99 and I got married, that is."

"99?" Daniel frowned.

"Ah, well, yes-" Max looked toward 99 desperately.

"It's sort of a pet name," 99 lowered her eyelids.

"Right, a pet name," Max nodded his head.

"Unusual," the seaman and Martha said at once.

"I don't think so-" Max bristled.

"Is there a story to go with the name?" Candy asked.

"Of course, but I can't tell you."

"Why not?" Jonathan demanded and then looked very wise. "Is it mushy, or something?"

"Er, yeah, it is. Would you believe she swore me to secrecy?"

"Yeah," the boy nodded. "Girls are funny like that. Candy 'bout killed me when I read her diary."

Max looked terribly relieved as Carolyn lifted a brow. "Jonathan, why am I just now hearing about this?"

"I didn't think it was worth bugging you about after he apologized," Candy intervened. "Under duress, that is. Isn't that a neat word? That's one of our vocabulary words this week."

"And you used it well, but Jonathan, no more reading your sister's diary and Candy, no threats to or beating of your brother or no dessert for a month."

"Okay," Jonathan answered. "But really Mom, I was just practicing being a spy! You know, like those shows you and Martha watch. Those guys never get in trouble."

"Of course they do, just off-camera," Max spoke up. "Spy discipline is top secret."

"How do you know?" the children asked together.

"Oh, I read a lot," Max answered. "So – this chowder IS good!"

Martha tried to decide if she was flattered by his praise or insulted by his shock.

Just as the family (and secret agents) began to relax, there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Martha sighed. "When I get rid of the salesman or whoever, I'll bring in dessert. Blueberry Slump and another small batch of cookies; I did the cookies before I knew that I'd be pretending to be Norrie for a few hours, and the Blueberry Slump at the restaurant."

The children's cheers were deafening.

**On-Board the TARDIS**

"Oh, blast!" Romana exclaimed, then hurriedly added, "NO, K-9, don't YOU blast."

"Yes, Mistress," the robot said meekly.

"Romana, I do believe that humans are beginning to influence you, I am certain I heard the Muir children use that phrase; fortunately not around K-9," the Doctor grinned. "Good show. Humans are among my favorite species. Now, what are you blasting, or having K-9 not blast?"

Holding up a thick book she replied succinctly, "THIS."

The other Time Lord took the hefty volume from her and studied it. "I hardly think you need to review the _Principles of Elementary Science_, my dear." Flipping it open, he began to chuckle. "Unless, of course, you want a laugh; they are so amusing in their scientific beliefs, aren't they? Where did you pick up this joke book?"

"It's not a joke book, it's a child's school text, apparently," she answered in exasperation. "It is also the same color as the science text from Gallifrey that I was reading over when our guests arrived. They did have their school things with them, and would seem that my book got switched, purely by accident, I am certain, with Candy Muir's."

"How dreadful; granted, now the girl can understand the Gallifreyan language in which it is written, thanks to the gift of the TARDIS, but it will hardly help her in class. It's far too advanced for anyone on their planet to comprehend." He frowned, "Well, perhaps one or two scientists might begin to grasp the elementary principles of it and be able to apply them - Oh, blast."

"Precisely. It does not matter that I have this useless tome," Romana shrugged. "However, that one book could change the course of Earth history, if it gets in the wrong hands, and that would not only be a nightmare, but get us both trials before the High Council."

"And, they do get testy about this sort of thing," her mentor muttered. "There's no help for it; we'll have to go back and find Candy and Jonathan and get the books exchanged." As he began spinning dials, the Doctor mumbled, "Just as well. I hate to think how Candy would explain losing the thing, even if it will rot her brain. Imagine, saying that absolutely nothing goes faster than light! The idiots who wrote that should be hanged."

"Doctor, they don't know any better. The text is written based on knowledge gathered through the year 1970 - not 2070 or 3070. They have no idea of the wonders that will happen, or what will be learned even 30 years from - now, that is meaning 1970, where we are - you know what I mean."

"Yes, and I suppose I could get the child in even more trouble if I tried to tell her something that was true if she had no evidence to back my - her claims up."

"True, humans hate being corrected."

"Even when they are wrong," Romana nodded. "But they aren't the only ones." She gave the Time Lord a look.

"True. Never try to tell a Sontaran he's off-base, and it makes Davros absolutely insane, more so, to imply that. Suggesting that might prove fatal." With a pensive look, the Doctor concluded, "Most every race I have ever encountered is absolutely replete with beings that just cannot stand to be told they are wrong. It's a terrible failing."

"Nobody is immune," Romana shrugged. "Even Gallafreyans."

"Especially the High Council, but if you are trying to obliquely say something, don't worry. I do realize it and I will try to help you deal with constructive criticism better." He flashed a grin. "Now, speaking of those hidebound idiots, let's do what we can to keep them from becoming upset with you for losing a valuable text."

"Actually I was thinking of YOU dealing with criticism every now and again - and I didn't lose the book. Candy did."

"Aha, my point is proven. Shifting blame is a most unattractive trait, Romana. The child could not lose a Gallifreyan book; well, now she could because she has one, but she did not lose one until you lost it into her care."

"I MEANT she lost - or at least forgot her science book." Sighing, she gave up, muttering, "Impossible man" under her breath.

"I heard that," The Doctor gave his companion another toothy grin, and began twirling some dials on the console.

END PART FOUR


	5. Chapter 5

**Gull Cottage**

A prickle at the base of Daniel's awareness had the ghost clutching his spoon, tightly and wishing that he could doff his Captain O'Casey disguise. Something was wrong, he just knew it. Before he could give in to the instinct to shout a warning, Martha had opened the door.

"We aren't buying any cookies, candles, or insurance-" she began without preamble.

"Good, I am not selling," the blonde man smirked. "I've come for the dog."

Frowning, Martha stared at him. "What's Scruffy done? If you intend to play _The_ _Wizard of OZ_ and Miss Gulch and try and have our dog destroyed, I'm warning you, I bite worse than he can ever hope to."

"See? I'm not the only one who likes that movie," a heretofore unnoticed tall man chirped from behind the first one.

In the dining room, Max and 99 exchanged glances. "That sounds like-" 99 began.

"Siegfried and Starker; No one else could sound so – cheesy," Max agreed.

"What should we do, Max?"

"Try to distract everyone while I get my shoe off and call for backup."

"The Chief is hours away!"

Back at the door, Siegfried was fuming. "SHUT UP, STARKER! I assure you both; my bite is worse than anyone's, human or canine!" On that note, he pulled out a gun. "Won't you invite us in?"

"Great! First we get a would-be Bogie, now we have Colonel Klink," Martha muttered.

"What was that?" Siegfried demanded as he marched the housekeeper back to where the family was still seated.

"Nothing."

"Good, keep it that way. Now, if you will just cooperate and hand over the dog and the blue box, my associate and I will be – AH HA, I knew there was something going on here!" Upon seeing the Smarts, Siegfried stopped his instructions to sneer at his nemesis. "Secret Agent Maxwell Schmart; we meet again."

"SECRET AGENT?" Daniel and Carolyn stuttered together.

"Long time no see, Siegfried. I warn you, whatever you are planning on doing, I will stop you, because I am on the side of good and you are on the nasty side and right always comes out – right."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we have had this conversation before," Siegfried yawned. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the dog and the box, you will give them to me now." Suddenly as his gaze swept the room, he frowned. "Children?" He muttered an unintelligible foreign word. "You two; go to your room and stay out of the way." Spying Scruffy taking a semi-stance beside Candy as he growled in a low tone, Siegfried added, "Take your mutt, too."

"Thank you," Carolyn breathed, and Captain Gregg also nodded.

"You are welcome," the enemy nodded tersely. "We are KAOS; we do not threaten children and little fuzzy things." Half-glancing back at his associate, Siegfried barked, "Starker, take the children and the creature upstairs and lock them into their room out of my way."

"Yes, Sir."

Siegfried's henchman's glance went from one child to the other. "Sorry, _mien kinder,_ it is nothing personal."

"What about dessert?" Jonathan began to complain, but Candy elbowed him in the ribs.

"Not now," she whispered. "We can eat the cookies you stashed up there yesterday."

"Martha's cookies are better than Fig Newtons, though."

"You didn't stash Fig Newtons, you stashed her good ones."

"Actually I stashed both!" Jonathan whispered.

Starker leaned in toward the children as they climbed the stairs. "I want some cookies, too."

"I won't tell you where they are," Jonathan retorted. "You're a bad guy."

"Not really, it's just my job," he hissed back.

"Yeah, right," the boy sneered. "That's what you get."

"We ate all of the clam chowder, too," Candy added, for good measure.

"So? I don't like fish."

"Clams aren't fishy, they're yummy. And YOU don't get any!"

"I will if I want them. I'm with KAOS, no one says no to us. And you will give me cookies."

"I said you CAN'T have any clam chowder. We ate it all," Candy stamped her foot as they reached the nursery. "And even bad guys don't steal from kids."

"You won't get to Heaven if you keep it up," Jonathan said. "But if you ask NICELY we may give you some of the Fig Newtons."

"I can't ask nice, it's against the rules."

"Whose rules? Mr. Siegfried's?"

"KAOS rules. If I tried to be nice, they'd dock my pay and Herr Siegfried would slap me, again."

"You let him slap you?" Candy fell back on the bed, astonished. "Mom has NEVER slapped us! I don't think she has ever slapped ANYone!"

"She's your mama. She's allowed to be nice," their captor shrugged. "Move it."

"Why do you want to take Scruffy?" Candy asked. "He's a great dog, yeah, but he's not real valuable."

"And where do you want us to move to?" Jonathan asked, puzzled. "I thought you just wanted to lock us in our room? We're here," he added, looking around. "Mom said I get my own room in a coupla months, before school starts up this fall."

"I meant – each of you, sit on your bed. Ach. I forgot to ask if I should tie you up, and I don't have any rope. Hmm. Will you be quiet and pretend I did?"

"Yes," The children nodded their heads vigorously.

"You still haven't told us why you want Scruffy," Candy added. "Your boss said he doesn't hurt fuzzy things, but Scruffy is the fuzziest thing around here, and he's here with us," she added, petting the terrier who gave off a little growl as he hopped up on the girl's bed.

"Not him. We want the metal one that shoots things."

"You mean K-9? You saw him?" Jonathan's eyes grew big.

"He's nowhere around here," Candy added, truthfully.

"We'll see what my boss says about that," Starker frowned. "You or the Smarts either know where he is or know how we can find him. Now I am going to lock you in your room and go downstairs. Promise you won't go calling the police?"

"How? We don't have our own phone," Jonathan asked. "Danny Shoemaker does, but we don't."

"Well, okay. Now you two stay in here, and you be quiet. Promise that, too,"

"Okay."

The minute the man left the room the two children looked at each other.

"We gotta think of sumthin'" Candy said immediately. "I wish we could call the Doctor and Romana somehow."

"But we promised Mister Starker-"

"We promised we wouldn't call the police and to be quiet," the girl answered. "I'm talking about the Doctor."

"But how?" her brother demanded as loudly as he dared.

"I don't know-" the girls face crumpled. "But something has to happen."

"Could we climb out the window?"

"Down the drainpipe? Mom'd kill us!"

"Do you think that Siegfried would kill her?" Jonathan gulped fearfully.

Biting her lip, Candy turned ashen. "Captain Gregg won't let him."

"But - he's a ghost, Candy - bullets and knives-"

"-Go through him, I know. But the clam chowder didn't. Besides, he'll stop them before they shoot anyone."

"I hope so," Jonathan went on, glumly. "Say - maybe we can use our big flashlights that we got last Christmas and signal out the window? People at a distance could see us - but the bad guys can't from the porch."

"It's too light out."

"They could see something flashing if we use a code - like SOS - even if it doesn't shine all the way across the sky."

"Who would be close enough to see?"

"Nobody," Jonathan sighed. "So one of us still has to get out the window and try to get to town for some help."

"Then, I'll do it," the girl answered.

"Heck no! We both go! Just like we did when we had to free Algae."

"Maybe we wait for just a little?" Candy suggested. "We will, I promise, but I still think maybe Captain Gregg will do something. This is his ship, and he will figure out some way to get rid of the pirates."

"But everyone will know he's a ghost then!"

"Not if he does it right. I just know he won't let those guys hurt us. And don't forget - Mr. and Mrs. Smart are down there, too, and Mister Siegfried said they were secret agents, so maybe they can do something."

"Maybe Mrs. Smart, but I dunno about Mr. Smart," Jonathan said doubtfully.

"Maybe he just pretends to be dumb, you know, like Clark Kent acts all klutzy, but he's really Superman?" Candy suggested hopefully. "You can't be a secret agent if you are really dumb. And, you know, the Doctor seemed kind of - well, weird, but you can tell he's cool and knows a lot. I think if he was rich he might be what they call eccentric. When you're not, you're just strange."

"Maybe," Jonathan was dubious.

"We have to hope," Candy stated firmly. "It's all we can do."

That was not much comfort.

XXX

"Now, if you will just hand over the dog and the blue box, my associate and I will be on our way and you can go back to eating blueberries and cookies," Siegfried promised. "Of course, if you invented these miracles, the dog and the box, not the cookies, KAOS is always looking for talent, and we have very good benefits. I have the authority to offer you positions in our world domination research and development department. I would advise that you take it."

"Didn't the _Godfather_ - or Mario Puzo call something like this an offer you can't refuse?" Martha asked.

"That Mafia book stole all our best lines," Siegfried sniffed.

"I just don't understand," Carolyn sounded bewildered. "You sent our dog upstairs, and why would you want him? He's just an ordinary dog; he doesn't shoot things. And blue box?"

"That last doll your mother-in-law sent Candy was in a blue box, and I still have it; those dolls are more valuable if they have the box, but surely it's not worth enough money to break in over!" Martha exclaimed.

"Dolls? Puppies? We are talking KAOS and ruling the world, not nursery school!" Siegfried sputtered.

"Is there any chance you have the wrong house?" Max asked. "99 and I are just here on a - nice vacation. You can't just assume everywhere we go there's some big agenda going on."

For a moment, it almost seemed like he had made a logical ruse that would trick Siegfried, but then the other man shook his head. "Ah, no, Smart, you can't fool me like that. I know you would not be here unless something was up. Besides, I saw the little dog with the lasers and the blue box that could hold many people but just take up the space of a phone booth. And I want them, NOW."

"We nothing of what you are speaking of," Daniel said, doing his best to rein in his temper, for Carolyn, Martha and the children's sake. "So why don't you just leave, and we'll let it go at that?"

"KAOS does not make mistakes! Now - someone is missing – Aha - where is the blonde and the buffoon?"

"Carolyn is right here, and Claymore Gregg is in town - What does HE have to do with this?"

With a smug look, Siegfried replied, _"Danke._ Now we know his name, but you have the wrong blonde. This is not the one."

"Carolyn Muir is the only blonde woman I know - well, there is Mrs. Coburn, but her hair comes from a beauty shop. And if Claymore is not the buffoon you are referring to, I have no blasted idea what you are talking about."

"Siegfried-" 99 cut in, "These people know nothing."

"You saying that tells me that they DO know something, they know everything, in fact, otherwise you would not be trying to cover for them."

"You've been with KAOS too long, Sig," Max sighed. "You aren't making sense. Would you believe I have checked them out from top to bottom and found nothing, mysterious at all?"

"You are the last one to talk about not making sense, Smart, and of course. If you were an effective agent, KAOS would have hired you ages ago. Where you failed, I succeeded."

"Hey! I am too effective! That was below the belt! 99, tell him that's not true."

"It's not true!" she answered immediately.

"You have to say that, you are his wife and he ordered you to as a superiorly ranked agent. It does not count."

"Max never orders me to do anything!"

Leaning over, Martha hissed, "Think we can do something while they bicker?" to the Captain.

"There has to be something," he whispered back. "What I wouldn't give for my sword and belaying pin! But I don't know what I can do without revealing who - and what I am!"

"Well, if you do, just do some of your voodoo and make them think they were hallucinating!"

"Both of them?" Carolyn interjected quietly, "Maybe those - KAOS people, but what about Max and Susan - ah 99?"

"You, there!" Siegfried shouted, seeing the three talking, "You! Goldilocks! Move away from your boyfriend! I believe I will just have to MAKE you talk!" So saying, he grabbed her roughly by the arm. Red clouded Daniel's gaze and thunder crackled.

"Siegfried!" 99 yelled, "Leave her alone! She's a civilian!"

"Right," Max said, camel-kicking Starker, standing behind him, "You-" He broke off at the sight in front of him, for "Daniel O'Casey" was no more - suddenly there was no trace of the amiable man they had had dinner with, but a bearded, very large, very imposing, very ANGRY figure.

"NO ONE THREATENS MY LADY!" Daniel roared as a sword appeared in his hand.

"Who – What - Who?" Siegfried stuttered and loosened his grip on Carolyn. Reflexively, Daniel reached for her hand and pulled her away from the KAOS agent.

XXX

Upstairs, the two children could not help but hear the raised voices.

"We've GOT TO do something," Candy insisted, carefully stomping one foot so as to not make noise.

"HOW? We're locked in," Jonathan argued. "I mean, yeah, we do, but we can't, so what do we do?"

"Maybe we can pick the lock? It looks easy on TV." She sighed. "I wish I had enough hair to have hair pins."

"And I don't have a lock picker," Jonathan scowled. "We could try my knife?"

"Credit card would be better," Candy added, and then suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "When Martha locked the keys in the car, she was able to use an unbent coat hanger to get in, she said. I wasn't with her, but I remember hearing her tell Mr. Peavey about it when he was over for cherry pie a few weeks ago."

"How'd she do it?"

"I dunno, but a lock's a lock, unless it's a combination lock."

They had just straightened out a thin hanger when a sudden breeze and the sound of an asthmatic engine filled the room.

Seconds later, the TARDIS appeared between their beds and the shelves and the Doctor with Romana and K-9 in tow stepped out.

"By George, I believe we got it right," the strange man grinned. Spying the children's stalled and fruitless efforts, his cheery grin turned to a frown. "Oh dear, I suppose you did get into terrible trouble for losing your schoolbook after all. It hardly seems a confining to quarters worthy offense, really."

"Doctor! Miss Romana! Boy, are we glad to see you!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"Yeah, there's bad guys downstairs holding Mom and everyone hostage," Candy chimed in. "They locked us up here and they want K-9 and the TARDIS."

"But, Mom and Captain Gregg don't know anything about them and I don't think the Smarts do either, so they're really mad," Jonathan added. "I mean, the bad guys are mad."

"And, we're just scared," Candy gulped. "Please, help us. It's getting loud down there and I'm - they just can't hurt Mom and Martha." Now was one of the rare times that Candy was on the verge of tears.

Discomforted by this, the Doctor cleared his throat. "It seems we arrived just in time, then. What poppycock. A mere human can't pilot the TARDIS and K-9 is my dog. I might share my jelly-babies, but not my dog."

"Standing here talking about it is not doing anything useful," Romana pointed out. "I suggest we go downstairs."

"Right, now, to get out of this room is the first step," the Doctor agreed. From one of his cavernous pockets, he pulled a slim device. "Sonic screwdriver," he informed the children in response to their curious looks. "As long as this is not a dead-lock seal, we can - aha, its not - get out." While he had been speaking, he aimed the gizmo at the door so that a light beam struck the lock. "You two best stay put. Let the Time Lords handle this. Coming, Romana? K-9, stay. If I need you, I'll whistle."

"We wanna come!" Candy protested.

"Yeah, we can help!" Jonathan went on. "It's just locks we aren't good at."

"Oh, I've no doubt you are quite capable children, but being where there are mean people, especially if they are armed, which I assume your bad guys are, is not where young people such as yourselves belong. Besides, someone needs to watch K-9, since he's in such a high demand."

"Master Doctor is correct," K-9 blinked. "And this unit does not like stairs."

"Don't worry," Romana assured the kids. "The Doctor always has a plan, and they come out right, most of the time, at least when it pertains to villains. Travel plans are another story."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "One or two little mistakes-" he muttered.

"-Per day."

The Time Lord raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think we should get downstairs?"

"And do what, exactly?"

"Save the day."

"How?"

"No idea. I'm working it out as I go along - just like I usually do."

The Time Lady was unable to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. "Of course, why would this be any different? "At least it's not Daleks, this time."

"Dalek?" Jonathan repeated the word. "That sounds German. Mister Siegfried and Starker are German, I think."

"They can explain later, after they rescue Mom," Candy cut in firmly.

"Right, Brigadier!" The Doctor gave the children a toothy grin and headed toward the stairs.

"What's a Brigadier?" Jonathan frowned.

"Something military, I think. The old sheepdog in _The One-Hundred and One_ _Dalmatians_ mentioned the word and he was always talking army stuff."

With a whirring sound, K-9 reported, "Brigadier is a rank of General in the Armed Forces on Earth." There was a pause. "Data indicates that the species known as sheepdog does not have the capability to speak on this planet, though they do have noses. Data further indicates that in Doctor Master's lexicon, the term Brigadier refers to one Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, a former companion of Doctor Master's."

"So, it was a compliment?" Candy asked uncertainly.

"Affirmative."

"Thanks, then," Candy answered. The children stood there and stared at the closed door for at least ten seconds before a glint came to Jonathan's eye.

"Candy," He poked his sister on the arm. "Let's go watch!"

"Who do what?" Candy's eyebrows went up an inch. "The Doctor said-"

"He said we couldn't help, not that we couldn't watch! We could - and be really quiet, like when we watched Tim Seagirt sing that one time. Nobody caught us then. They wouldn't have known at all if Mom hadn't tricked us into singing his song the next day."

"I think she knew, or she wouldn't have tried to trick us. She just knew for sure after that."

"So you won't go with me?"

"I think I better; just to keep you out of trouble."

"Uh, yeah, sure."

XXX

"Who – What - Who?" Siegfried stuttered and loosened his grip on Carolyn. Reflexively, Daniel reached for her hand and pulled her away from the KAOS agent. Confused, Siegfried fired wildly, but only succeeded in shattering a window.

"Claymore will not be happy," Martha observed.

"Here, here!" came a voice from the doorway, "I read somewhere firearms weren't allowed within the city limits of Schooner Bay without special license?"

"They have rules like that in this berg?" Max asked.

"The buffoon!" Starker exclaimed, "Coming in here with no weapon! But from upstairs?"

"Ach, Mr. Claymore Gregg, how good to meet you at last," Siegfried said in an oily tone. "Won't you join the party?"

"Who's Claymore?" Ramona spoke up.

"From what I understand, he is the only one around here foolish enough to walk into someone holding a gun!" Siegfried answered, contemptuously.

"Since I am never ever foolish," the Doctor replied, "That lets me out. Besides, I just used my screwdriver to warp your firing chamber so it will not be able to go destroying more private property, much less hurting any people."

"You-" Quickly, Siegfried tried to fire the weapon and discovered the strange fellow was right. Retaliating, he threw the gun straight at Daniel Gregg's head.

Reflex made the ghost phase his skull into intangibility for the split second it took for the weapon to sail through. Realizing a moment too late what he'd done, Daniel quickly pretended to have ducked, and hoped everyone outside the family was fooled. But he wondered who these two strangers were and how they had boarded without him knowing.

Starker began sputtering, "It – it – it - his head - right through - what happened?"

"Shut up, imbecile!" Siegfried snapped; pausing in his tirade to slap the underling.

While the KAOS agent was distracted, Max finally managed to free his hidden gun and pull it on his rivals. "Hold it, you two. And, please, don't monkey with my gun. I'm on the side of niceness."

"Wielding a gun hardly credits that statement," Romana sniffed.

"Oh, I don't know; Alistair was always wanting to fire five rounds rapid into something or other, and Duggan was quite fond of firearms and I rather liked the chap," the Doctor protested. "He was a touch too violent, but considering he usually was slugging the enemy, I suppose allowances must be made."

"True," she nodded after some thought. "Very well, you may keep your gun and have it function. Doctor, you don't need to alter his weapon."

"Thank you for your permission," he noted ironically.

In the abrupt quiet, Martha rushed over to Mrs. Muir. "You're all right, aren't you? The Captain saved you, AGAIN." She hugged her employer, then without thinking, wrapped her arms around the ghost. Then, she realized what she had done and only then did the pair begin to realize that Captain Gregg still had a tight grip on Carolyn's hand.

"I - don't understand ANY of this nonsense! Siegfried stuttered. "You - Mr. O'Casey - what happened to your face? For a few seconds-"

"He must be an agent, like Maxwell Smart!" Starker pronounced.

"Not a thing," Daniel bluffed.

"But your face - for a moment you were someone entirely different! I saw it! So did Starker!" He glanced around the room. "No, I am not a lunatic! You all saw it, too!"

"I didn't see anything," 99 said, but Carolyn could see a flicker of knowledge in her eyes.

"I've never heard a more ridiculous notion," Martha huffed.

"The better question is, who are YOU two, and how did you get upstairs?" Carolyn asked, turning to the Doctor and Romana. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for your help, but well, it is a bit disconcerting."

"Oh, we met your children this afternoon on the beach," the Doctor shrugged. "They played with my dog for a while. He's upstairs, by the way, and - how does one usually get upstairs? We went up there. Candy and Jonathan said you all were in trouble."

"We thought we would help," Romana added.

"What did you climb up, the Monkey-Puzzle tree?" Daniel blinked.

"Now, that might be one way to get into the room-" the doctor hedged. "-Drain pipe might be another though. More the point being we got here in time to help you out, right?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"We need to call the Chief and get these two out of here as soon as possible," Max cut in, "Without the whole town knowing about this."

"Ha. I cut the phone lines," Siegfried crowed. Carolyn almost expected him to stick out his tongue.

"Er, Mein Herr, I was supposed to do that, but I couldn't figure out which were the phone lines and which were the power ones," Starker gulped.

"Besides, I DO have MY phone," Max reminded him.

"Ach! That infernal shoe phone of yours!" Siegfried moaned.

"Shoe phone? I say, do they come in size thirteen?" the Doctor asked, clearly intrigued by the notion.

"Uhm - I don't know," the agent answered. "I wear a nine. I suppose so - they are standard issue for all male control agents."

"And why don't the women get any?" Romana demanded.

"They don't work with high heels too well."

"Far be it from me to interrupt this ever so interesting conversation," Daniel said, putting an arm around Carolyn's waist. "But I want these two out of here as much as I am sure Carolyn does. Shouldn't we call Norrie Coolidge? He's the Constable around here."

"That won't be necessary," A voice came from the doorway.

As they all turned to see who had come in NOW, Martha hissed, "I like it better when our security system is in place," so that only the Captain and Carolyn could hear.

Carolyn stifled a hysterical giggle. "I thought the door was locked-"

The Smarts turned toward the doorway for a fraction of a second. "Chief!" they exclaimed.

"Would someone care to make introductions?" Romana asked very properly.

The Chief strode into the living room, followed by Larrabee. Both were carrying guns. "I got worried about you two and decided to come here myself. Mrs. Larrabee is looking out for the twins. Siegfried! Starker! Might have known you were behind all this! Good work, Max and 99!"

"Thank you, Sir," Max beamed.

"Us? We've done nothing!" Siegfried protested, "Why don't you talk to the fellow with the curls? He has a robot dog! And he melted our guns with his ball point pen!"

"Pleading insanity isn't an option, Siegfried." The Chief shook his head.

"Ball point pen? How utterly ridiculous," the Doctor fumed. "Does my screwdriver LOOK like a lowly Bic, Romana?"

"Doctor, let it be."

"But he - well, I suppose so."

"Max, 99, we need to get Siegfried and Starker safely to jail," the Chief went on. "I leave you to wrap things up here, but don't take too long. I expect you back in Washington by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" Max started to protest. "But, Chief; 99 and I are on our second honeymoon!"

The Chief pinched the bridge of his nose and looked pained. "That was just a cover, Max!"

"He looks like YOU, Captain," Martha whispered. "You do that all the time!"

"Only around Claymore, and I am much more handsome."

"Now THAT was un-called for," the Chief snapped. "And just who are you, sir?"

"Captain Daniel G - O'Casey. A friend of Mrs. - Carolyn's. I was here for supper this evening when these brutes broke in."

"Vell, I don't have to stay here and be insulted," Siegfried snorted. "Larrabee, take us avay! But be warned, Smart! I will be back!"

"If it's back here, I'm whacking you with my cast iron skillet," Martha promised.

"Nein, Madame," the man shook his head. "I wish to forget everything that has happened tonight! This place is a - a Spook House! That's what it is!"

"I'm open to doing the whacking here and now if you keep on spouting nonsense."

"And really, my dear fellow, I don't think an insanity plea will work either," the Doctor said, mildly.

"Come on, Siegfried," The Chief poked him with his gun. In moments, The Chief, Larrabee, Siegfried and Starker were out the door and away.

"I want some explanations, AFTER I make sure Candy and Jonathan are all right," Carolyn announced firmly.

"We're fine, Mom!" Two voices came from the stairs.

"You were cool, Captain Gregg!" Candy added.

"The MOST!" Jonathan beamed up at his hero in disguise. "You too, Doctor and Miss Romana!"

"I don't know whether to hug you two, or ground you for being so close to danger, or both!" their mother sighed.

"We did exactly what you said!" Jonathan protested. "And what the Doctor said, too. We didn't try to help-"

"-Just watched the fun," Candy added.

"But, look at the window-" Carolyn began.

"We didn't do it, Mom. Honest, not this time," Candy protested.

"No, but a bullet did, and I don't think that nutty crook was shooting at that! He could have shot you two by accident, and I don't care if KAOS is not into "hurting children and or fuzzy things," people do get hurt that are not meant to be in the line of fire," their mother fumed. Then, she gave in and sighed. "I'm shaking. Come hug me."

After they did so, Candy threw her arms around the Captain. "Martha hugged you, so I can, too!"

"That's right, she did!" the ghost exclaimed.

"What's so unusual about being hugged?" 99 asked.

"Well, er, I did mention having a cold, though I must say, Martha's chowder is quite as remedial as chicken soup, perhaps more so!" the Captain bluffed.

"We'll have to get in touch with the Admiral and see if they want to market the recipe," the housekeeper added for good measure. "Long as they don't want Laughing-Boy or Gull Cottage pictured on the ads or cans, that is."

"I take umbrage to that," Daniel sniffed, and for a moment, there was a rumble of thunder.

"I still want to know HOW you two got upstairs without anyone seeing you and WHY you did in the first place," Carolyn demanded of the two Time Lords, ignoring the rumbles.

"Oh, that's easy, Mom," Jonathan answered, "The Doctor's TARDIS is in our bedroom."

"Doctor Who?" Carolyn asked, blankly. "Doctor Feeny? And what's a TARDIS?"

"Time and Relative Dimension in Space," the stranger rattled off.

"No, Mom, not Dr. Feeny – THE Doctor," the children tried to explain.

"I don't understand," Carolyn answered, the Captain and Martha nodding their heads in agreement.

"Nor I," they said together.

"Us, either," Max and 99 agreed.

"Maybe we should all sit down and eat our dessert we were so rudely interrupted from, and I'll make a fast pot of coffee?" Martha asked, "But no starting without me. I've gotta hear this."

Candy rolled her eyes impatiently. "I'll help you, Martha, it will go faster."

"Okay, Candy. Come on, Jonathan; you can help, too."

"I need to go get Scruffy and K-9!" he objected.

"Dear lady, could you manage tea?" The Doctor asked, "I used to like coffee -- that was in my last incarnation. But this is not the time to discuss my idiosyncrasies." At Martha's slightly puzzled nod, he turned to Romana. "You might want to help the boy, my dear. K-9 can't levitate, you know. Must work on that."

"I think we have some tea. Lots of ice or just a few cubes?"

"Iced?" the doctor looked truly distressed for a moment. "My dear, would a nice cup of hot tea be too much trouble?"

"I'll see if we still have some bags."

"Bags? I-" Romana shot the Doctor a look as she started to follow Jonathan to the stairs. "Bagged will be fine, I suppose," he went on, reluctantly, and reached deep into his pocket. "Jelly-baby, anyone?" he asked, pulling out a bag.

"Me!" Jonathan exclaimed, coming back into the dining room, "Try, some, Mom, Captain Gregg, they're really good!"

Martha popped her head through the kitchen door. "Better than my cookies?"

"Uh-uh," he shook his head. "Just a different kind of good."

"Jonathan lad, if you wouldn't mind, go help Romana? I believe all will be better understood if everyone can meet K-9."

"Maybe," Max grunted. "But listen. Siegfried wasn't the only one. I saw his gun go right through your forehead, Sir," he turned to Daniel, "And what happened to your face? For a minute, you looked like-"

"He looked like Captain Gregg - the one in the portrait in the living room," 99 continued. "And I heard Jonathan call you Captain Gregg, too. "Say, what's going on, here?"

"Oh, hadn't you guessed that?" the Doctor shook his curly head. "And here, you two are secret agents, so you are all hiding things. Daniel is a ghost, I believe; the famous Captain Daniel Gregg of Gull Cottage, if I am not mistaken."

"Come now, a ghost?" the Captain frowned. "Really, that's the stuff of legend."

"Yes, Sir, you ARE a legend." The Time Lord grinned even wider.

"A ghost! Of course!" Max snapped his fingers. "That's the second time I've missed spotting a ghost this year!"

"You did look like him," 99 nibbled a thumbnail. "But it's impossible - still, Anne Ferris's late mother showed up in time to save us that one time, remember, Max?"

"But you - you are solid, and eat and everything," Max said, just as Jonathan and Romana arrived back in the dining room with K-9 and Scruffy.

"Only the weakest ghosts can't manage that," the Gallifreyan sniffed, "Common knowledge. Hello, Romana, K-9, How did you get down here so fast?"

"I moved the TARDIS to the kitchen."

"Oh, all right then!"

"Hey! You are starting without us!" Candy scolded as she and Martha came back into the room with servings of Blueberry Slump and ice cream on a large tray.

"Right," Martha added, now back up!"

Candy scratched her head. "I don't know where to start. Do you, Jonathan?"

"I do," Jonathan crowed.

"I should explain myself, first," Daniel Gregg said, his features shifting back to his own.

"There now, isn't that more comfortable?" The Doctor grinned. "I know how hard it can be, changing faces. Do it when I regenerate, but that's another story. Three times now. Remind me to tell you about it sometime."

"I think Max and I need to explain ourselves first," 99 cut in, or I won't be able to enjoy this dessert at all."

"Can't we talk and eat at once?" Max pleaded. "Now that we know they're good guys, I can enjoy it without worrying about being drugged."

"You thought I would drug the chowder?" Martha laughed. "Nonsense; laudanum would ruin the taste."

"And foxgloves don't work without brandy and all that other stuff," Jonathan put in.

"Eh?" Max grunted.

"Dig in," Martha encouraged everyone. "We'll talk as we eat."

Slowly but surely, during double helpings for all, most of the events of the last day fell into place.

XXX

By the time everyone's stories concluded, Agent 86 felt like his head was going to explode. How was he ever going to put any of this into a report? Space aliens, tin dogs, disappearing phone booths that were actually time machine rockets, sonic screwdrivers, ghosts that could act like people, and jelly-babies? Maybe the weird part was the nice, normal-seeming aspect; a widow raising two kids; mostly on her own. He was sure he couldn't handle the twins: Donald and Barbara, without 99, and Mrs. Larrabee helping from time to time.

"I do hope we can depend on you all to not go telling the world about Captain Gregg," Carolyn cut into his chaotic thoughts.

"I personally never do paperwork and anyone I might tell would be on another world, in all probability," the Doctor announced. "Romana, K-9, you won't blab, will you?"

"As you say, to whom?" the Time Lady asked, raising one brow with a haughtiness left over from her first life. "Most people we know well enough to share secrets with have seen far more unusual things, anyway."

"Doctor-Master merely needs to order this unit into silence," K-9 added.

"We will have to write a report," 99 admitted. "But, all of CONTROL's papers are kept in top secret, times three, files that absolutely no one can find. Max's are even more secure than that. No one can ever find anything he files."

"Perhaps Claymore has been working for them all these years," Martha mused, biting into one of her windmill cookies.

"Do we have an agent Claymore?" Max frowned.

"Not unless he's a secret, too," 99 said, "The only Claymore I know is Mr. Gregg; the one that rented the cottage to us."

"Of course, you do understand that even if he were, we couldn't tell you, so he still might be," Max added. "That is to say, your secret is safe with us. Er, both sets of secrets are safe with us. We will only report the facts, but no one outside our agency, and not many of them, I don't think, will ever know about ghosts or aliens, except the Chief."

"I've got enough an odd enough reputation without adding in spy stories or reports of UFO's," Carolyn agreed. "Though, I'm not sure you can call the TARDIS a flying object, but you get the point."

"Likewise," Martha nodded.

The kids frowned. It'd sure be cool to be able to tell their friends about this adventure, but after only seconds, Candy spoke up, "We won't tell anyone, ever. It'll just be something to cherish in our family."

"Right," Jonathan nodded. "If I ever tell, may buzzards eat my gizzard and ants crawl up my pants. Do you want me to swear it and sign an oath in blood?"

"That will not be necessary," Martha replied firmly. She hated washing bloodstains, or seeing it, for that matter. Ed had gotten no cherry pie for two weeks after he insisted on taking her to that half-price two-for-one-special horror-fest at the local theater.

Daniel Gregg shook his head, and stroked the back of Carolyn's hand.

"There a few things I still don't understand, Doctor. You are light-years, as the saying goes, ahead of us. You made a comment earlier, right after everything was out in the open, something to the effect that "of course ghosts can touch;" I've never been able to touch a mortal, or live being, no matter how often I tried. Came close a few times, but never have without becoming intangible first, but even then, it was quite limited - tossing Claymore out of the house, carrying Scruffy inside. Once I guided a toddler back to his older sister. Then today, I suddenly could; why?"

"Spiritual adrenaline," the Time Lord shrugged, swallowing more tea.

"But - before you made it sound like only the most inept of ghosts can't touch-"

"Like Elroy Applegate," Candy put in.

"Right, dear girl, and I am hardly inept! So why couldn't I before? And why can I now, even when the adrenaline is over?" The ghost reached over and tousled Jonathan's hair, and then patted Candy, who was sitting next to him, on the arm. "All of them. I can touch my family at last!"

"At the risk of sounding like Glinda, the Good Witch in _The Wizard of Oz-"_ Romana started.

"You always DID have it," the Doctor finished. "I told you - most ghosts - those that remain full time on Earth, that is, can, you know."

"No I didn't know," Daniel grumbled.

"Your spiritual body gets used to the physicality."

"That's so much gobelty-gook. In English please?"

The alien sighed to himself over the denseness of Earthlings. "Look, when you had physical muscles, the first time you lifted something heavy, it hurt a great deal or was impossible. But, as you continued to try, it became something you could do and do without the ache, yes? It's much the same for a spiritual body."

"But it took a hundred-and-one-years for me to do this?" The ghost squeezed Carolyn's hand again and then laced his fingers with hers.

"Sometimes it does," the Doctor shrugged. "I'm not a para-psychologist, just a Time Lord. I just know that from what you have said, nothing mattered to you more in that one point in time than rescuing Carolyn from Siegfried and Starker. It was the drop of water that broke the dam - the camel's last straw, and so forth."

"I think The Doctor is right," 99 nodded. "Ages ago, Max and I were on a case where this woman, was romantically involved with a KAOS agent and on the run from another. She faked her own death some time before, and then tried to convince us that she was now a ghost, and at the same time pretended to be her own mother. I can't reveal all the details, but it came down to a hand-to-hand combat with Max and the head bad guy who also wanted this woman dead. He was distracted by what we thought was the woman pretending to be her mother once more, and Max was able to subdue him. We realized after though that Anne hadn't changed back into her mother's costume at all and it really was her mother's ghost that helped us."

"The danger was the catalyst," Romana inserted helpfully. "Rather as oxygen is a necessary condition in which to create fire, but fortunately, just because there is oxygen does not mean combustion. You need another element to set off the reaction."

"But now - you think I will be able to be tangible to Carolyn, and the children and Martha at will?"

"I hope so," Carolyn whispered. "We can't count on; nor do we want, Siegfried to show up again."

"I don't have much experience with this, but now that it's done, it should stay done," the Doctor shrugged.

"Good!" Candy nodded. "Now you guys can get married - like you were going to in the dream you gave us last Christmas, but we woke up too soon."

"Candy!" Carolyn flushed.

"Candy's right!" Jonathan cut in. "That was my Christmas wish last year! That sometime it could happen. We got the dream, and it was neat, but-"

"And, haven't you heard that a dream is a wish your heart makes?" Candy added earnestly. "So, your hearts were wishing-"

"And now it can come true!" Martha said. "And I won't even make you wait until New Year's Day!"

Daniel gazed deeply into Carolyn's green eyes for a long moment. There is nothing I have wanted more, since the day I met you," he finally said simply. "You are my greatest dream come true."

"Aye-" she whispered softly. "I love you, Daniel."

"That's settled then," Martha nodded. "What kind of wedding cake to you two want?"

"Chocolate!" the children cheered, hugging their Captain, almost before Carolyn and Daniel could kiss.

"Congratulations. You do have one little problem though-" the Doctor broke in.

"Spoilsport," Romana frowned, "What?"

"Our good Captain has no legality in 1970," the Time Lord went on. "No identity. He has a death certificate, but - I don't believe they even had birth certificates when you came into the world initially."

"Are you sure you exist or ever have then?" Max asked.

"Quite certain."

"We don't use them on Gallifrey and everyone is sure they exist. They might question others' actuality, but, I digress," the Doctor rambled.

"He's good at that," Romana whispered loudly.

"Affirmative," K-9 agreed.

Scruffy just cocked his head and gave a soft "woof." He really did not know what to make of all these strange people or this dog that did not have a smell.

"What can be done about it?" Carolyn fretted. "I really don't CARE if Daniel has paperwork; he's not some show dog, or poodle by the fire," her face softened into a smile of remembrance, "But, I know the law cares about that kind of thing, so how do we do this right?"

99 and Max, who had been rather silent, looked at each other, then at Daniel Gregg, back to each other, to the other regular inhabitants of Gull Cottage, and back at each other again.

"Ahh-" Max started.

"Snap!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I wonder if you are thinking what I am thinking?"

"Snap?" Martha blinked. "I'm thinking, what does that mean? And I really doubt I can think like you do."

"True enough; you are simply human."

"Thanks, so much!"

"My dear, saying 'Snap' is just another way of snapping your fingers when a brilliant idea hits. Now then-"

"Hey!" Max said indignantly, "99 and I thought of it first. At least I think we did - didn't we, 99?"

"If it is the idea that CONTROL can legalize you, it is," 99 smiled. "We've given people whole new identities, when we have to - face and all. You can already do that. We'll talk to the Chief. He's going to get the full story anyway. He's our boss, he has to. It'll be a breeze."

"But then I would be indebted to you," the ghost frowned.

"Not for long, or only a little bit every now and then," Max cut in. "A ghost as a secret agent we could call on in extreme emergencies could be pretty handy!"

"Pay would be - okay," 99 shrugged. "We don't make a fortune, but it would be rewarding work."

"A ghost agent?" The Doctor flashed a grin, "Why not? It would be a little like that old British show I used to catch sometimes - _Randall and Hopkirk._ Actually, at present, it's new, but it will be old, eventually. This chap was a detective who got killed, but lingered to help his former partner, who was still manning the detective agency they used to run together."

"And it's not like you could get hurt, plus you get really cool gadgets," Max added.

"What kind?" Candy demanded, "You didn't show us anything."

"We were pretending to be on our second honeymoon, sweetheart," 99 tried to explain.

"You mean you aren't?"

"I think it turned into one," 99 gave Carolyn a wink.

"It has been one of our most memorable cases," Max nodded. "What do you say, Captain? All your legal stuff and you just need to help us out once in a while. Rest of the time you could do what you want - write, teach, start a charter business, or maybe manage that little museum in town - anything."

"As long as there is no possibility of Carolyn and the children being threatened, like tonight."

"Most of our work is more in the Washington DC area," 99 answered.

"But there is some traveling," Max said honestly, "But you can do that like the wind. You aren't grounded here or anything, are you?"

The seaman found himself forced to look in askance at the Time Lord. "I have not ventured overly far in my term as a ghost. What is my range of travel?" He added quickly, "I am not merely asking with reference to this potential line of work, but should Carolyn do me the honor of giving me her hand in marriage, it might be that we would want to go farther than the Inn for a honeymoon."

"I should hope so!" Martha huffed. "Otherwise, you'll have the entire town looking in on you and wanting to take a gander at the new guy, even if you aren't really; new, that is."

"I doubt it will last long," Carolyn smiled, "Other than perhaps the ladies in town saying how lucky I am."

"Except for Mrs. Shoemaker," Candy interrupted.

"Your daughter has a point," Martha said dryly. "It may not be my place to say so, but she never says anything nice about anyone."

99 blushed. "That name was one of the ones mentioned in our report about you, Carolyn."

"I don't CARE what Mrs. Shoemaker or Danny says about anything," Candy sniffed. "When can you and the Captain get married, Mom?"

"And can we start calling you Dad, NOW?" Jonathan demanded immediately.

"And are Romana and I invited?" the Doctor added. "You know we can manage it time-wise." He gave the occupants of the table another toothy grin. Biting into the cookie he had just dunked into his Earl Grey, he added, "I've never been to a ghost/human wedding before and it is quite difficult to find new experiences for someone who has been around as long as I have been in comparison to most of you."

"You are older than the Captain? I mean, Dad is?" Jonathan looked awed.

"Oh yes," Romana smiled brightly. "I'm over two hundred and the doctor is-"

"Slightly older than you," the other alien spoke over her. "Of course, on our planet, life spans tend to run to thousands of years, so both Romana and I could be said to be babes in the woods, chronologically. However, as we have actually gotten off Gallifrey and lived, rather than merely observing, that term is somewhat inaccurate. The point is, I have seen more years than the Captain, and been even more places. However, I have never seen a ghost get married. I have met spies, though."

"Spies?" Max snapped to attention. "What kind of spies?"

"Several," the Doctor shrugged. "More than I should go into tonight. I see two children that probably should have been a-bed an hour ago, too."

"And we really should get our report dictated tonight, so we don't forget anything; right, 99?" Max added. "We'll see you all in the morning, before we head back to D.C."

"I don't know if we will be here-" the Time Lord, answered.

"You stick around until tomorrow morning and I'll make you a real English breakfast," Martha answered. "Sausages, smoked bacon, eggs, fried bread and a tomato with lashings of mushrooms - and cereal, toast and marmalade - I do it well, if I do say so myself."

"And if you don't, I will, Dear Martha," Daniel cut in.

"Oh, go on, you old ogre, you," the housekeeper blushed.

"I can't resist marmalade," the Doctor agreed. "We'll be here. The Americans might not be much on high tea, or even low, but when it comes to breakfast, they are excellent. Perhaps sometime I could talk you into blueberry pancakes? This is Maine, after all. Come, Romana, I suggest we let these nice people get a good night's sleep."

"Right; come on, 99," Max rose.

"Coming, Max. Carolyn?" 99 went on. "Can I make a quick call and see how the twins are? They weren't part of our cover story!"

"Be my guest," Carolyn gestured toward the phone, and as 99 headed to the foyer to use the phone, Carolyn turned toward Candy and Jonathan. "You two – march. It's bed-time."

"Aww, Mom!" both children protested. "The Captain-"

"The Captain will be tucking you in, too," the seaman smiled. "Just as I have every night since Candy found out about me, and a few before that."

"Okay," the two grumbled. "G'night Miss Romana! G'night Doctor!" The two Time Lords were enveloped in hugs for a moment, "G'night, Mr. and Mrs. Smart!" They embraced the agents, and headed toward the stairs.

"We'll see you tomorrow morning," the Doctor executed a perfect bow, Romana hugged both Carolyn and Daniel, and a moment later they and K-9 were gone.

"We'll get going as soon as 99 finishes her call," Maxwell Smart went on, and as an afterthought, endeavored to imitate the Doctor's bow, tripped, hit the dining table with his hand, almost crashing into Martha, who was collecting dirty dessert dishes on a large tray. The agent righted himself carefully.

"Missed it by that much!"

XXX

After the children were tucked in and Martha had retired, the ghost and his lady stood quietly on the porch under the starlight.

"It's certainly been an eventful day," Carolyn laughed shakily.

"Indeed, my dear, and the day is not done."

Before she knew what was happening, she found Daniel Gregg on one knee in front of her, holding out a ring in one palm. "I managed to keep Claymore's ancestors from finding this; unfortunately, I've no box for it, but I trust that does not matter. It was my mother's favorite, though not an official engagement ring. Would you do me the honor of being my bride, and if I may be so bold, soon? I would hate to have to bunk with Claymore very long, though I surely must, now that I can be solid." He chuckled. "I can hardly wait to see his face when I show him what I am capable of!"

"I'll marry you tomorrow, if the Doctor or Max can pull off the paperwork!" Carolyn held out her left hand, which trembled slightly as he took the ring and slipped it on her finger. "It is lovely, but please; get up."

"You deserve that and more, far more," he intoned, rising to his feet and enveloping her in his strong arms. "But, it's the best I can do, FOR NOW. I love you, Carolyn Muir, as I never knew love could be."

"And I, you."

"Then, I am grateful to all those bumbling idiots for today's fiasco, otherwise, we never would have known all that might be for us."

Lifting her face, she kissed him, rejoicing anew that it was possible to do so.

"So, darling, am I."

END


End file.
